32  CALIBER 


DONALD   MCGIBENY 


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32  CALIBER 


'She  stays  here !"  Jim  cried. 


32  CALIBER 

h 
Donald  McGibeny 


Frontispiece  by 

HUGH  MACKEY 


flZI 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1920 
The  Bobbs- Merrill  Company 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  Amerioa 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  ft  CO. 

BOOK   MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLVN,   N.  f. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I 

Bring  Jim  Here     .... 

9 

II 

Two  Men  and  a  Woman     . 

.      24 

III 

I  Could  Kill  Him 

.      34 

IV 

The  Worst  Happens  .     .     . 

.      56 

V 

Accident  or  Murder  .     ,     . 

.      73 

VI 

A  Clue  and  a  Verdict    .     . 

.      90 

VII 

I  Turn  Detective 

.     103 

VIII 

It  Looks  Bad  for  Helen 

.     115 

IX 

Look  Out,  Jim       .... 

.     133 

X 

I  Accuse  Zalnitch     .     .     . 

.     143 

XI 

A  Double  Indictment     .     , 

156 

XII 

Who  Am  I 

175 

XIII 

We  Plan  the  Defense    .     .     . 

185 

XIV 

Bullet  Proof 

194 

XV 

The  Answer 

208 

XVI 

The  Mechanician      .     .     .     . 

220 

XVII 

Red  Capitulates    .     .     .     .     . 

235 

XVIII 

I  Listen  to  My  Forebe;ars    .     , 

241 

2137058 


32  CALIBER 


32  CALIBER 

CHAPTER  ONE 

BRING  JIM  HERE 

I  WAS  in  the  locker-room  of  the  country- 
club,  getting  dressed  after  the  best  after- 
noon of  golf  I  had  ever  had.  I  had  just 
beaten  Paisley  "one-up"  in  eighteen  holes  of 
the  hardest  kind  of  sledding. 

If  you  knew  Paisley  you'd  understand  just 
why  I  was  so  glad  to  beat  him.  He  is  a  most 
insufferably  conceited  ass  about  his  golf,  for 
a  man  who  plays  as  badly  as  he  does;  in 
addition  to  which  he  usually  beats  me.  It's 
not  that  Paisley  plays  a  better  game,  but  he 
has  a  way  of  making  me  pull  my  drive  or 
over-approach  just  by  his  confounded  man- 
ner of  looking  at  me  when  I  am  getting  ready 
to  play. 

We  usually  trot  along  about  even  until  we 
come  to  the  seventh  hole — in  fact,  I'm  usually 
ahead  at  the  seventh — and  then  conversation 
9 


10  32   CALIBER 

does  me  in.  You  see,  the  seventh  hole  can 
be  played  two  ways.  There's  a  small  clay 
bank  that  abuts  the  green  and  you  can  either 
play  around  or  over  it  to  the  hole,  which  lies 
directly  behind.  The  real  golfers  play  over 
with  a  good  mashie  shot  that  lands  them 
dead  on  the  green,  but  dubs,  like  Paisley,  play 
around  with  two  easy  mid-iron  shots.  When 
we  get  to  the  place  where  the  choice  must  be 
made.  Paisley  suggests  that  I  go  around, 
which  makes  me  grip  my  mashie  firmly, 
recall  all  the  things  I  have  read  in  the  little 
book  about  how  to  play  a  mashie  shot,  and 
let  drive  with  all  my  force,  which  usually 
lands  me  somewhere  near  the  top  of  the  clay 
bank,  where  it  would  take  a  mountain  goat 
to  play  the  next  shot.  After  that.  Paisley 
and  I  exchange  a  few  hectic  observations  and 
my  temperature  and  score  mount  to  the 
highest  known  altitude. 

Of  course,  every  now  and  then,  I  forget  my 
stance  and  Paisley  long  enough  to  send  the 
ball  in  a  beautiful  parabola  right  on  to  the 
green,   and  when  I   do — oh,  brother! — ^the 


BRING  JIM  HERE  ID 

things  I  say  to  Paisley  put  him  in  such  a 
frame  of  mind  that  I  could  play  the  rest  of 
the  course  with  a  paddle  and  a  basket-ball 
and  still  beat  him.  This  particular  afternoon 
he  had  tried  to  play  the  seventh  hole  as  it 
should  be  played,  and  though  we  had  both 
foozled,  I  had  won  the  hole  and  romped  tri- 
umphantly home  with  the  side  of  pig. 

I  was  gaily  humming  to  myself  as  I  put 
on  my  clothes  when  James  Felderson  came 
in.  His  face  was  drawn  and  his  mouth  was 
set  in  a  way  that  was  utterly  foreign  to  Jim, 
whose  smile  has  done  more  to  keep  peace  in 
committee  meetings  and  to  placate  irate 
members  than  all  other  harmonizing  agencies 
in  the  club  put  together.  There  was  some- 
thing unnatural,  too,  about  his  eyes,  as 
though  he  had  been  drinking. 

"Have  you  seen  Helen?"  he  demanded  in  a 
thick  voice. 

"No.  Not  to-day,"  I  answered.  "What's 
the  matter,  Jim?     Anything  wrong?" 

Felderson  has  been  my  law  partner  ever 
since  he  married  my  sister  Helen.     I  had  left 


12  32  CALIBER 

him  at  the  office  just  before  lunch  and  he  had 
seemed  then  as  cheerful  and  unperturbed  as 
usual. 

"Helen  has  gone  with  Frank  Woods!"  he 
burst  out,  his  voice  breaking  as  he  spoke. 

It  took  a  second  for  me  to  grasp  the 
meaning  of  what  he  said,  then  I  grabbed  him 
by  the  shoulder. 

"Jim,  Jim,  what  are  you  saying?" 

My  sister — ^left  her  husband — ^run  off 
with  another  man!  I  had  read  of  such 
things  in  stories,  but  never  had  I  believed 
that  real  people,  in  real  life  and  of  real  social 
position,  ever  so  disgraced  themselves. 
Every  one  knew  that  Frank  Woods  had  been 
seeing  a  lot  of  Helen,  and  several  close 
friends  had  asked  me  if  Jim  knew  the  man's 
reputation.  I  had  even  spoken  to  Helen,  only 
to  be  laughed  at,  and  assured  that  it  was 
the  idle  gossip  of  scandal-mongers.  That 
she  should  have  left  Jim,  darling  old  Jim,  for 
Frank  Woods,  or  any  other  man,  was  un- 
thinkable. Jim  sank  on  a  bench  and  turned 
fr  face  to  me  that  had  grown  utterly  haggard. 


BRING  JIM  HERE  .     13 

"It*s  true,  Bupps!  I  found  this  on  the 
table  when  I  went  home  to  lunch." 

He  held  out  a  crumpled  note  written  in 
Helen's  rather  mannish  back-hand. 

"Jim, 

"It  is  now  ten-thirty.  Frank  is  coming  for 
me  at  eleven.  He  has  made  me  realize  that, 
loving  him  the  way  I  do,  I  would  be  doing  you 
a  horrible  injustice  to  keep  up  the  wretched 
pretense  of  being  your  wife. 

"Had  you  left  any  other  way  open,  I  would 
have  taken  it,  but  you  refused  a  divorce.  I 
hate  to  hurt  you  the  way  I  must,  but  try  to 
understand  and  forgive  me. 

"Helen." 

I  turned  toward  Jim.  His  chin  was  sunk 
in  his  hands.  Two  men  came  in  from  the 
tennis-courts  and  nodded  as  they  went  by. 

"What  have  you  done  ?"  I  asked. 

He  raised  his  head,  and  on  his  face  was 
written  incalculable  misery. 

"Nothing!"  he  answered,  dropping  his 
hands  hopelessly.  "What  can  I  do,  except 
let  them  go  and  get  a  divorce  as  soon  as 
possible?  It's  my  fault.  After  we — 
quarreled  the  other  night,  she  asked  me  to 


14  32   CALIBER 

divorce  her,  and  I  refused.  God,  Bupps !  If 
you  only  knew  how  much  I  love  her  and  how 
hard  I've  tried  to  make  her  love  me.  And 
she  did  love  me  till  Woods  came  along." 

I  hurried  up  my  dressing,  turning  over  in 
my  mind  the  details  of  Jim's  married  life. 
In  the  light  of  the  latest  developments,  I 
realized  the  painful  fact  that  I  was  partly  to 
blame  myself.  Helen  hadn't  really  loved  Jim 
when  she  married  him.  Oh,  she'd  loved  him 
in  the  same  way  she'd  loved  a  lot  of  other 
men  whom  she'd  been  niore  or  less  engaged 
to  at  one  time  or  another.  She  had  married 
Jim,  because  it  had  been  the  thing  to  do  that 
year,  to  get  married;  and  she  realized  that 
Jim  loved  her  more  and  could  give  her  more 
than  any  of  the  others.  Where  I  came  in 
was  that  I  had  urged  her  to  marry  Jim  be- 
cause he  was  the  best  man  in  the  world  and 
because  I  wanted  him  for  my  brother-in-law. 

I  remembered  now  how  cold  Helen  had 
been,  even  during  their  engagement,  trump- 
ing up  almost  any  excuse  to  keep  from 
spending  an  evening  alone  with  the  man  who 


BRING  JIM  HERE  15 

was  to  be  her  husband.     It  had  made  me  bo 

hot  that  I  had  reproached  her  even  in  Jim's 
presence.  My  words  didn't  seem  to  affect 
Helen  any,  but  they  did  affect  Jim  a  lot.  He 
had  taken  me  for  a  long  ride  in  his  car  and 
filled  me  full  of  moonshine  about  how  he  was 
unworthy  of  her  and  how  he  would  win  her 
love  after  they  were  married.  I  was  in  such 
sympathy  with  him  that  I  tried  to  believe  it 
true,  although  I  knew  Helen  as  only  a 
younger  brother  can  know  a  sister.  I  knew 
that  she  had  been  pampered  and  petted  ever 
since  she  was  a  child;  that  she  had  never 
shown  much  affection  for  father  and  mother, 
who  were  her  slaves,  while  toward  me,  who 
had  insulted  and  made  fun  of  her,  she  was 
almost  effusive.  With  this  in  mind,  I  had 
urged  Jim  to  neglect  her,  to  "treat  her 
rough,"  but  when  a  man  is  head-over-heels 
in  love  with  a  girl,  what's  the  good  of  advice  ? 
To  tell  him  to  mistreat  her  was  like  telling 
a  Mohammedan  to  spit  in  the  face  of  the 
prophet. 
They  had  been  married  a  little  over  a  year 


IQ  32   CALIBER 

when  Frank  Woods  came  to  Eastbrook  ort 
war  business  for  the  French  Government.  He 
had  been  in  Papa  Joffre's  Army  during  part 
of  the  melee,  wore  the  Croix  de  Guerre  with 
several  palms,  and  could  hold  a  company  of 
people  enthralled  with  stories  of  his  experi- 
ences. Whether  he  had  a  right  to  the 
decorations,  or  even  the  uniform,  no  one  was 
quite  sure,  but  it  set  off  every  good  point  of 
his  massive,  well-built  frame.  He  would 
stand  in  front  of  the  fire  and  tell  of  air-scraps 
in  such  a  way  that,  while  he  never  mentioned 
the  hero  by  name,  it  was  easy  to  guess  that 
**hero"  and  Frank  Woods  were  synonymous. 
He  could  dance,  ride,  play  any  game  and 
shoot  better  than  the  best  of  us,  and  when  he 
sat  at  the  piano  and  sang,  every  man  looked 
at  his  wife  or  his  fiancee  and  wondered  where 
the  lightning  was  going  to  strike.  For 
although  he  was  a  very  proper  young  bache- 
lor for  months,  showing  no  unseemly  interest 
in  women,  we  all  of  us,  I  think,  secretly  felt 
that  he  was  setting  the  stage  for  a  "grand 
coup." 


BRING  JIM  HERE  17 

If  he  had  singled  out  Helen  from  the  first, 
he  couldn't  have  played  his  game  better,  for 
his  seeming  indifference  to  her  loveliness 
piqued  her  almost  to  madness.  During  the 
early  months  of  our  entrance  in  the  war  he 
was  called  back  to  France,  and  every  man  in 
Eastbrook  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  There 
wasn't  one  of  us  who  could  say  why  we 
thought  him  a  cad,  but  just  the  same,  I  doubt 
if  there  was  a  father  in  Eastbrook  who  would 
willingly  have  given  his  daughter  to  him.  He 
was  too  much  of  the  ideal  lover  to  make  a 
good  husband.  There  was  something  about 
him,  too,  that  made  no  man  want  to  claim 
him  as  a  particular  friend,  but  perhaps  it  was 
because  we  were  all  jealous. 

While  most  of  the  younger  men  of  the  town 
were  in  France,  or,  like  Jim  and  myself,  in  a 
training-camp,  Frank  Woods  came  back,  and 
this  time  there  was  no  mistaking  whom  he 
had  picked  out  for  his  attentions.  Until  the 
war  was  over  and  Jim  home,  it  was  not 
noticeable,  for  he  was  most  meticulous  in  his 
behavior,    but   with   Jim    busy   trying   to 


18  32   CALIBER 

straighten  out  our  tangled  practise,  Woods 
lost  no  time  in  taking  advantage  of  his 
opportunities.  And  there  had  been  oppor- 
tunities enough,  heaven  knows,  with  Jim 
surrounded  by  clients,  yet  trying  in  his 
clumsy,  lovable  way  to  remonstrate  with 
Helen  for  seeing  so  much  of  Woods.  My 
interference  had  only  increased  his  oppor- 
tunities, for  the  evening  I  told  her  what 
people  were  saying,  she  quarreled  with  Jim, 
and  as  a  result  he  threw  himself  into  his 
work  with  an  energy  in  which  enthusiasm 
had  no  part. 

All  the  time  these  thoughts  were  running 
through  my  head — and  they  ran  much  faster 
than  I  can  set  them  down — I  had  been  throw- 
ing my  clothes  on,  knowing  something  had 
to  be  done,  yet  what  that  something  was  I 
couldn't  for  the  life  of  me  figure  out. 

"Come  on,  Jim !"  I  said,  grabbing  him  by 
the  arm  and  pulling  him  from  his  dejected 
position. 

"Where  to?"  he  responded  wearily. 
.."First  of  all,  we're  going  to  shut  this  thing 


BRING  JIM  HERE  19 

up.  The  Sun  would  like  nothing  better  than 
to  spread  it  thick  all  over  the  front  page  of 
their  filthy  sheet." 

"You're  right,  old  boy !  I'd  forgotten  about 
the  newspapers.  It  would  be  horrible  for 
Helen  to  have  her  name  dragged  through  the 
mud." 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  Helen,"  I  responded 
testily,  **but  a  lot  of  cheap  notoriety  won't 
help  our  law  practise  any." 

All  the  spirit  seemed  to  have  seeped  out  of 
his  system,  so  I  pushed  him  into  my  car, 
preferring  to  take  the  wheel  rather  than  have 
him  drive.  I  can  always  think  better  when 
I  have  a  steering  wheel  in  my  hands,  and 
knowing  with  what  speed  Jim  drove  ordi- 
narily, I  didn't  care  to  trust  my  precious  body 
to  him  in  his  overwrought  condition. 

We  were  just  backing  into  the  drive  when 
one  of  the  servants  came  running  from  the 
club. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Thompson !"  he  called. 

I  stopped  the  car  and  waited  for  him  to 
come  up. 


20  32   CALIBER 

'*What  is  it?'' 

'Tfou're  wanted  on  the  telephone." 

I  jumped  from  the  car  and  started  for  the 
club.  There  were  the  usual  groups  of  tea- 
drinkers  and  bridge-players  scattered  about 
on  the  broad  veranda,  and  it  seemed  to  me, 
as  I  ran  up  the  steps,  that  they  all  stopped 
talking  and  looked  at  me,  I  thought,  with 
curiosity,  if  not  with  pity.  There  would  be 
no  use  shutting  up  the  newspapers  if  that 
bunch  of  gossips  were  in  possession  of  the 
scandal. 

I  hurried  to  the  telephone  and  slammed  the 
door  to  the  booth,  expecting  to  hear  the  voice 
of  some  reporter  demand  if  there  was  any 
truth  to  l^he  rumor  that  Mrs.  James  Felder- 
son  had  run  off  with  Frank  Woods.  To  my 
buzzing  brain  it  seemed  that  the  whole  world 
must  have  heard  the  news. 

"Hello,"  I  called. 

"Is  that  you,  Warren?"  It  was  Helen's 
voice. 

"Helen !"  I  yelled.  "For  God's  sake,  where 
are  you?" 


BRING  JIM  HERE  21 

"I  am  at  the  house.  Listen,  Warren !  Have 
you  seen  Jim  ?" 

Her  voice  sounded  faint  and  strangely 
uncontrolled. 

**Yes — ^yes,"  I  shouted.  "He's  here  with 
me  now." 

"Then  bring  him  here  quickly,  Warren! 
Please  hurry." 

"But,  Helen " 

•*Don*t  ask  me  any  questions,  please." 
There  was  a  catch  in  the  voice  on  the  other 
end  of  the  wire.  "I  c-can't  answer  any  ques- 
tions now,  but  bring  Jim,  and  hurry !" 

The  receiver  clicked  and  I  dashed  out  of 
the  booth,  a  thousand  questions  pounding  in 
my  brain.  Why  was  Helen  at  the  house? 
Had  Frank  Woods  failed  to  keep  his  appoint- 
ment, thinking  better  of  eloping  with 
another  man's  wife;  or,  had  Helen  come  to 
her  senses,  seen  through  the  thin  veneer  that 
covered  the  cad  and  the  libertine  in  Frank 
Woods  and  returned  to  her  husband  for 
good?  Over  and  above  these  questions  and 
conjectures  and  hopes,  there  was  thanksgiv- 


22  82   CALIBER 

ing  in  my  heart  that  the  irremediable  step 
had  not  been  taken;  that  something  had 
intervened  to  keep  scandal  and  disgrace  away 
from  Jim. 

There  must  have  been  something  in  my 
face  that  told  Jim  I  had  been  talking  to 
Helen,  for  he  moved  into  the  driver's  seat  and 
greeted  me  with  the  single  question :  "Where 
is  she?" 

"Home!"  I  panted,  "and  drive  like  the 
devil!" 

I  might  have  saved  myself  the  trouble  of 
the  last,  for  even  before  I  got  into  the  car 
there  was  a  roar  of  exhaust  and  the  crunch 
of  grinding  gears  and  we  were  off  down  the 
smooth  drive  with  a  speed  that  quickly 
brought  tears  to  my  eyes  and  put  the  fear  of 
God  in  my  heart. 

How  we  ever  escaped  a  smash-up  after  we 
got  into  the  city  I  can't  tell  to  this  day,  for 
Jim  never  once  slackened  speed.  He  sat 
there  with  jaws  set,  pumping  gas  and  still 
more  gas  into  the  little  car.     Thrice  I  sa^^ 


BRING  JIM  HERE  23 

death  loom  up  ahead  of  us,  as  vehicles  ap- 
proached from  side-streets,  but  with  a  swerve 
and  a  sickening  skid,  we  missed  them  some- 
how. Once  a  street-car  and  a  wagon  seemed 
completely  to  block  the  road  ahead,  but  Jim 
steered  for  the  slender  opening  and  when  I 
opened  my  eyes  we  had  skinned  through, 
leaving  a  corpulent  and  cursing  driver  far 
behind.  After  that  I  forgot  my  wretched 
fear  and  the  blood  surged  through  my  veins 
at  the  delicious  feel  of  the  air  as  it  whipped 
my  cheeks.  We  turned  at  last  into  the  long 
approach  to  Jim's  house  and  it  was  then  that 
my  heart  sank. 

Frank  Woods*  car  was  standing  before  the 
door. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

TWO  MEN  AND  A  WOMAN 

HAD  Helen  been  alone,  I  would  have 
dropped  Jim  and  gone  on,  knowing  that 
what  they  had  to  say  to  each  other  was  not 
for  outside  ears,  but  when  I  saw  Frank 
Woods'  car  there,  I  felt  that  a  cool  head 
might  be  needed.  There  was  an  ominous  set 
to  Jim's  shoulders  as  he  walked  toward  the 
steps,  a  sort  of  drawing  in  of  the  head,  as 
though  all  the  muscles  in  his  big  frame  were 
tensed.  He  hesitated  a  fraction  of  a  second 
at  the  door,  either  to  let  me  catch  up  with 
him  or  because  of  distaste  for  the  prospective 
meeting,  and  we  entered  the  cool  dark  hall 
together. 

Helen  was  standing  at  the  entrance  to  the 
big  living-room,  her  tall  figure  erect,  her  head 
proudly  poised,  one  graceful  arm  upraised, 
with  the  hand  buried  in  the  velvet  hangings. 
She  had  on  a  gray  traveling-suit,  the  coat  of 
which  lay  tossed  over  the  back  of  a  near-by 
24 


TWO  MEN  AND  A  WOMAN       25 

chair.  A  large  patent-leather  traveling-case 
lay  beside  it.  I  had  expected,  from  the 
urgency  of  the  message  and  the  sound  of  her 
voice  over  the  telephone,  to  find  Helen  agi- 
tated, but,  except  for  slight  traces  of  recent 
tears  and  a  high  color,  she  looked  as  cool  and 
collected  as  though  she  had  invited  us  to  tea. 
Jim,  on  the  other  hand,  was  trembling,  his 
face  a  pasty  white,  with  great  beads  of  per- 
spiration standing  on  his  forehead. 

She  motioned  us  to  enter,  and  I  led  the 
way,  gripping  Jim's  hand  in  passing.  Woods 
was  standing  by  the  window,  his  back  to  us, 
and  his  whole  pose  so  artificial,  so  expressive 
of  disdain,  that  I  felt  the  short  hair  rising 
along  the  back  of  my  neck  in  antagonism. 
When  he  heard  us,  Woods  turned  with  con- 
temptuous deliberation,  but  when  he  caught 
sight  of  the  dumb  misery  on  Jim*s  face,  his 
own  turned  a  dull  crimson.  Helen  crossed 
the  room  and  seated  herself  on  the  divan, 
back  of  which  Woods  was  standing.  The 
whole  performance — ^the  place  she  chose  near 
him.  the  look  she  flashed  at  him  as  she  sat 


26  32  CALIBER 

down,  showed  so  completely  which  of  the  men 
she  loved,  that  my  heart  sank  and  I  lost  hope 
of  ever  bringing  her  back  to  Jim.  It  was 
Helen  who  first  spoke. 

"You  received  the  note  I  left  this 
morning?" 

Jim  moistened  his  lips  once  and  said» 
**Yes."    The  word  was  barely  audible. 

"Then  there  is  no  need  to  tell  you  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  go  with  Frank." 

Her  tone  was  coldly  final.  Woods  had 
turned  and  was  again  gazing  out  of  the  win- 
dow. Jim  looked  at  Helen  with  the  eyes  of 
a  hound-dog.  My  heart  ached  for  him,  but 
there  was  nothing  I  could  do. 

**Why  did  you  come  back?"  Jim  almost 
whispered,  keeping  his  eyes  directly  on  her 
face. 

"Because  I  didn't  want  a  scandal."  She 
glanced  down  at  her  lap  where  she  was  open- 
ing and  closing  a  beaded  vanity  bag. 
Evidently  she  was  finding  the  interview 
harder  than  she  had  expected. 

"I  felt — I  hoped  that  if  I  could  show  you 


TWO  MEN  AND  A  WOMAN       27 

definitely  and  finally  that  I  don't  love  you, 
that  I  am  devoted  to  Frank,  your  pride,  if 
nothing  else,  would  induce  you  to  give  me  the 
divorce  for  which  I  asked.  That  is  the  reason 
we  decided  to  come  back — so  you  might  make 
it  possible  for  us  to  marry  without  a 
scandal." 

The  gross  selfishness  of  the  woman — I 
could  hardly  think  of  her  as  my  sister — ^her 
cold  cruelty,  yes,  even  her  damnable  beauty, 
seemed  to  go  to  my  head  and  something 
snapped  inside.  I  couldn't  bear  the  sight  of 
Jim  standing  there  helpless,  while  these  two 
turned  the  knife. 

"That  was  very  considerate  of  you,"  I 
sneered. 

"You  keep  out  of  this,  Warren !" 

"I'm  damned  if  I  do,"  I  retorted.  "I  at 
least  have  a  brother's  right  to  tell  you  that  a 
man  who  will  sneak  into  another's  home  to 
make  love  to  his  wife,  behind  his  back,  and 
then " 

Woods  turned  quickly.  "That's  a  lie,  and 
you  know  it." 


28  32   CALIBER 

Jim  put  his  hand  on  my  shoulder.  He  knew, 
I  was  ready  to  fight. 

"Don't,  Bupps!" 

Suddenly  he  seemed  to  straighten  into  life. 
From  the  way  he  set  his  jaw,  I  knew  that  the 
old  courage,  which  had  won  so  many  cases  in 
the  court-room,  was  back  on  the  job. 

**You  were  quite  right,  Helen.  While  I 
imagine  your  reason  for  not  wanting  a  scan- 
dal was  largely  selfish,  yet  I  think  that 
consideration  for  my  position  was  partly 
responsible  for  your  return,  and  for  that  I 
thank  you.  When  you  asked  for  a  divorce 
the  other  night,  I  didn't  realize  that  your  love 
for  me  was  so  entirely  dead,  or  that  you  had 
fallen  so  completely  under  this  man's  influ- 
ence. Under  the  circumstances,  I  shall  give 
you  a  divorce,  if  only  to  keep  you  from  taking 
matters  into  your  own  hands.  But  I  shall 
not  do  it  until  I  have  satisfied  myself  that 
your  new  love  is  real,  that  the  man  is  worthy 
of  it.  If  there  is  anything  in  Woods* 
life  that  does  not  bear  looking  into,  I'll  find  it 
out;  if  he  has  done  anything  in  the  past  that 


TWO  MEN  AND  A  WOMAN       29! 

is  likely  to  hurt  you  in  the  future,  I  shall 
know  it,  and  you  shall  know  it,  too,  before  you 
take  this  irrevocable  step." 

Woods  flushed  for  a  moment  when  Jim 
spoke  of  digging  into  his  past,  but  he  laughed 
easily  and  said: 

"You're  getting  a  bit  melodramatic,  aren't 
you?" 

"Better  melodrama  than  tragedy,"  Jim  re- 
sponded bitterly. 

"Helen  has  told  you  she  doesn't  love  you, 
and  that  she  does  love  me.  This  morning 
she  was  ready  to  face  the  scandal  of  leaving 
her  husband;  to  go  to  live  with  me,  to  live 
openly  with  me,  unmarried,  until  you  could 
get  a  divorce.  That  rather  answers  your  first 
point,  doesn't  it?" 

"It  makes  me  think  no  better  of  you,  that 
you  should  have  agreed  to  such  a  sacrifice." 

"I  never  expected  to  win  the  husband's 
love  at  the  same  time  I  won  his  wife's," 
Woods  responded  evenly. 

Never  have  I  seen  murder  shine  out  of  a 
man's  eyes  as  it  did  out  of  Jim's  at  that 


30  32   CALIBER 

moment.  Each  man  measured  the  other 
across  the  narrow  space,  and  I  longed  that 
the  laws  of  civilization  might  be  swept  aside 
so  that  the  two  might  tear  at  each  other's 
throats,  for  the  woman  they  loved.  Both 
men  were  powerful,  and  neither  feared  the 
other. 

"As  to  looking  up  my  past,"  Woods  con- 
tinued, "one  might  think  you  were  the  father 
of  the  lady  and  I  a  youthful  suitor.  While 
I  recognize  no  right  of  yours  to  meddle  in  my 
affairs,  the  fact  that  I  was  sent  to  America 
as  the  duly  accredited  agent  of  the  French 
Government  should  have  some  weight.  They 
are  not  accustomed  over  there  to  hiring  thugs 
and  cutthroats  to  carry  on  their  business." 

"This  is  all  beside  the  point,"  Helen  broke 
in.    "May  I  ask,  Jim,  where  I  am  going  to 
stay  and  what  I  am  going  to  do  while  you 
are  investigating  Frank's  past?" 
"You  are  going  to  stay  here." 
"Here?    But  where  will  you  stay?" 
"I  am  going  to  stay  here  with  you." 
Woods   came   around  the   divan.    "Look 


TWO  MEN  AND  A  WOMAN       81 

here,  Felderson !  Can't  you  see  Helen  doesn't 
love  you,  that  you've  lost — ?" 

"Keep  back !"  warned  Jim  huskily. 

"She  can't  stay  here  with  you.  She's  no 
more  your  wife  than  if  she  had  never  mar- 
ried you.  Do  you  think  I'll  allow  her  to  stay 
in  this  house,  forced  to  endure  your  atten- 
tions—?" 

"Who  are  you  to  say  what  you  will  or 
won't  allow?"  Jim  roared,  his  eyes  blazing. 
"You  came  into  my  house  as  my  guest  and 
stole  my  most  precious  possession.  Get  out 
before  I  kill  you!" 

Woods'  face  was  white.  For  one  minute 
I  felt  sure  the  two  men  would  settle  matters 
then  and  there.  Suddenly  he  turned  and  said: 
"Come,  Helen!" 

"She  stays  here!"  Jim  cried. 

Helen  had  arisen  from  the  divan  when  the 
two  men  came  together.  Now  she  stepped 
forward. 

"I'm  going  with  Frank.  We  came  back 
here  more  for  your  sake  than  our  own.  We 
tried  to  give  you  a  chance  to  do  the  decent 


32  82   CALIBER 

thing,  but  I  might  have  known  you  wouldn't. 
With  all  your  protestations  of  love  for  me, 
when  I  ask  you  to  do  the  one  thing  that  would 
show  that  love,  the  one  thing  that  would 
make  me  happy,  you  not  only  refuse,  but  you 
insult  the  man  who  means  everything  in  the 
world  to  me.  If  I  had  ever  loved  you  in  my 
life,  what  you  have  just  said  would  have 
made  me  hate  you.  As  I  never  loved  you,  I 
despise  and  loathe  you  now." 

She  started  to  pass  him,  but  he  grabbed 
her  by  the  shoulders.  His  face  was  white 
and  drawn  and  his  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  a 
madman.  He  lifted  her  up  bodily  and  almost 
threw  her  on  the  divan,  crying,  "By  God! 
You  stay  here !" 

Jim  turned  just  as  Woods  rushed  and  with 
a  mighty  swing  to  the  side  of  the  head,  sent 
him  crashing  into  the  comer.  Dazed  as  he 
was,  he  half  struggled  to  his  feet,  and  when 
I  saw  him  reach  beneath  his  coat,  I  sprang 
on  him  and  wrenched  the  revolver  from  his 
hand.  -    .'^;^' 

Disheveled  and  half-stupefied,  he  rose  and 


TWO  MEN  AND  A  WOMAN        33 

glared  at  us  like  an  angry  bull.  Slowly  he 
straightened  his  tie  and  brushed  back  his 
hair.  He  glanced  over  at  Helen,  who  was  sob- 
bing on  the  sofa. 

"Two  of  you—eh?  A  frame-up."  All  the 
hatred  in  the  world  gleamed  in  his  eyes,  as 
he  looked  at  Jim.  "If  you  don't  let  Helen 
come  to  me,  Felderson,  I'll  kill  you;  so  help 
me  God,  FU  kill  you !"  Then  he  picked  up  his 
coat  and  hat  and  walked  out  of  the  room. 

Jim  went  slowly  to  the  door  and  into  the 
hall.  He  looked  tired  and  old.  I  heard  the 
outer  door  slam  behind  Frank  Woods  and  a 
motor  start,   Then  I  went  out  to  Jim. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

I  COULD  KILL  HIM 

I  WAS  on  my  way  back  to  Jim's  after  hav- 
ing gone  home  to  change  my  clothes.  Jim 
had  asked  me  to  stay  with  him  that  evening 
and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  was  glad  to  do  it, 
partly  because  of  the  threat  Woods  had  made 
and  partly  because  of  the  way  Helen  looked 
at  Jim  when  she  passed  us  in  the  hall  on  the 
way  to  her  bedroom.  Being  a  lawyer,  I  have 
naturally  made  a  pretty  close  study  of  char- 
acter, and  if  I  ever  saw  vindictiveness  on  the 
face  of  any  human,  it  was  on  Helen's  at  that 
moment. 

I  said  nothing  about  the  affair  to  mother 
while  I  was  home,  for  she  has  been  very 
frail  ever  since  my  father's  death  and  I 
thought  there  was  no  use  in  needlessly  upset- 
ting her.  There  would  be  plenty  of  time  to 
discuss  the  matter  after  Helen  left  Jim. 

Again  and  again  I  recalled  the  struggle 
of  the  afternoon  and  again  and  again,  Helen's 
34 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  35 

face,  distorted  with  anger,  reappeared.  Fi- 
nally I  decided  to  drive  the  car  over  to  Mary 
Pendleton's  and  ask  her  to  come  spend  the 
night  with  Helen.  In  her  overwrought,  hys- 
terical condition,  Helen  was  capable  of  doing 
almost  anything. 

Mary  has  been  like  a  second  sister  to  me. 
She  really  cares  nothing  for  me,  except  in  a 
sisterly  way,  but  we  have  been  together,  so 
much  so  and  so  long  that  Eastbrook  gossips 
have  given  up  speculating  whether  we  are 
engaged.  I'd  marry  her  in  a  minute,  or  even 
less,  if  she  would  have  me,  but  Mary  insists 
on  treating  me  like  a  kid ;  calls  my  crude  at- 
tempts at  love-making  "silly  tosh  and  flub- 
dub," which  makes  the  going  rather  difficult. 
She  was  bridesmaid  to  Helen  and  is  the  one 
person,  besides  myself,  who  can  influence  her 
in  the  least,  so  I  felt  that  her  presence  would 
add  ballast  to  our  wildly  tossing  domestic 
craft.  Needless  to  say,  my  own  lack  of  self- 
control  during  the  afternoon  had  been  as  un- 
expected as  it  was  disappointing,  but  when 
it  comes  to  anything  that  concerns  Jim,  I'm 
not  responsible. 


36  32   CALIBER 

I  rang  the  bell  and  Mary,  herself,  came  to 
the  door,  looking  radiant  as  usual. 

"Hello,  Buppkins !"  She  greeted  me  with 
that  detestable  nick-name  she  has  used  since 
I  wore  rompers.  "Aren't  you  trying  for  a 
record  or  something?  This  is  twice  you've 
called  on  me  this  month." 

"Mary,  I'm  in  trouble." 

"Is  the  poor  'ittle  boy  in  trouble  and  come 
to  Auntie  Mary  to  tell  her  all  about  it  ?"  she 
sing-songed,  making  a  little  moue,  as  though 
she  was  talking  to  her  pet  cat. 

"Cut  it,  Mary!"  I  said.  "I'm  really  in 
trouble." 

"What  is  it,  Bupps?" 

"Helen  ran  off  with  Frank  Woods  to-day." 

"Heavens,  Bupps!" — she  was  serious 
enough  now. — "Where  did  they  go?" 

"They  went,  but  they  came  back.  Helen's 
home  with  Jim.  They  tried  to  force  him  to 
give  Helen  a  divorce.  There  was  an  awful 
fight  and  Woods  swore  that  he  would  kill 
Jim  unless  he  let  Helen  go.  But  put  on  your 
hat  and  coat  and  get  your  things.    Helen 


I  COULD  KILE  HIM  37 

needs  you  with  her.    I'll  tell  you  the  rest  on 
the  way  over." 

"I'll  be  with  you  in  a  second,"  she  called, 
running  up-stairs. 

When  Mary  was  snuggled  down  beside  me 
in  the  car — and  she  does  snuggle  the  best  of 
any  girl  I  ever  knew — I  told  her  everything, 
not  forgetting  the  part  where  I  wrenched  the 
gun  away  from  Woods. 

"Goodness,  Bupps !  I  bet  you  were  scared," 
she  commented,  her  eyes  twinkling. 

"Frankly,  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing, 
or  I  would  never  have  had  the  nerve,"  I 
laughed.    "But,  lord !    I  feel  sorry  for  Jim." 

Mary's  face  clouded  over. 

"So  do  I,  Bupps,  but  any  one  could  have 
seen  it  coming.  Jim  was  too  good  to  her.  As 
much  as  I  like  Helen,  I  will  say  that  the 
only  kind  of  husband  she  deserves  is  a  brute 
who  would  beat  her.  That's  the  only  kind 
she  can  love.  I  was  with  her  the  night  be- 
fore her  wedding,  and  she  confessed  then  that 
if  Jim  were  only  cruel  or  indifferent  to  her, 
just  once,  she  thought  she  could  love  him  to 


38  32   CALIBER 

death.  The  only  reason  Helen  cares  for  you 
and  me,  was  because  we  never  paid  any  par- 
ticular attention  to  her  when  she  acted  up 
and  pouted.  That  is  why  she  is  mad  about 
Frank  Woods.  When  he  came  to  Eastbrook, 
he  treated  her  as  though  she  didn't  exist." 

"And  if  Jim  were  cruel  to  her  now,  do  you 
think  she  would  go  back  to  him?"  I  asked. 

Mary  shook  her  head.  "No,  it's  different 
now.  If  Jim  were  cruel  to  her,  she  would 
probably  hate  him  all  the  more  for  it." 

"Proving  the  incomprehensibility  of  wom- 
an," I  jeered. 

"Proving  the  flumdability  of  flapdoodle," 
Mary  responded.  "K  you  men  only  put  one 
little  thought  into  giving  a  woman  what  she 
wants,  instead  of  giving  her  what  you  think 
she  ought  to  want ;  if  you  kept  as  up-to-date 
in  your  love-making  as  you  do  in  your  law 
practise,  women  wouldn't  be  the  incompre- 
hensible riddle  you  always  make  them  out  to 
be." 

"Well,  why  don't  you  tell  us  what  you 
want?"  I  asked. 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  39 

"Silly !  That  would  spoil  it  all,  don't  you 
see?  Besides  we  aren't  sure  just  what  we 
want  ourselves." 

My  spirits,  which  had  risen  considerably 
during  our  conversation,  dropped  with  a 
slump  when  Jim's  big  house  loomed  up  ahead. 
Already,  something  of  the  unhappiness  with- 
in seemed  to  have  added  a  more  somber  touch 
to  the  outside.  Have  you  noticed  how  you 
can  tell  from  the  face  of  a  house  what  kind 
of  life  the  inhabitants  lead?  Happiness  or 
misery,  health  or  sickness,  riches  or  poverty 
all  show  as  though  the  walls  were  saturated 
from  the  admixture  of  life  within. 

I  sent  Mary  up-stairs  to  see  Helen,  while  I 
went  into  the  drawing-room  in  search  of 
Jim,  but  there  was  no  one  there  except 
Wicks^  the  butler,  who  was  lighting  a 
fire,  for,  though  it  was  only  the  last  of 
September,  the  nights  were  chilly.  I 
snatched  up  the  evening  paper  to  see  if 
by  any  chance  a  hint  of  the  scandal  had 
crept  into  print.  I  felt  sure  that,  as  matters 
stood,  they  would  not  dare  to  put  in  anything 


40  32   CALIBER 

definite,  but  The  Sun  has  a  nasty  way  of 
writing  all  around  a  scandal,  so  that,  while 
the  persons  involved  are  readily  recognized, 
they  are  quite  helpless  as  far  as  redress  is 
concerned. 

I  noticed  that  Wicks  had  taken  an  infer- 
nally long  time  to  start  the  fire.  Although 
it  was  burning  merrily,  he  still  puttered 
about,  brushing  up  the  chips  and  rearranging 
the  blower  and  tongs.  When  Wicks  hangs 
about  he  usually  has  a  question  on  his  mind 
that  he  wants  answered,  and  he  takes  that 
means  of  letting  you  know  it.  I  decided  not 
to  notice  him  but  to  force  him  to  come  out  in 
the  open  and  ask,  for  once,  a  straightforward 
question.  From  the  fire,  he  moved  to  the 
table  and  straightened  the  magazines  and 
books,  glancing  now  and  then  in  my  direc- 
tion, trying  to  catch  my  eye,  but  I  buried 
myself  more  deeply  than  ever  in  the  paper. 
When  he  finally  stepped  back  of  my  chair, 
human  nature  could  stand  his  puttering  no 
longer,  so  I  laid  down  The  Sun,  and  turned 
to  him. 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  41 

''Well,  Wicks,  what  do  you  want?"  I 
snapped. 

Wicks  looked  at  me  with  the  expression  of 
a  small  boy  caught  sticky-handed  in  the  jam- 
closet. 

"Nothing,  sir! — ^that  is — er — nothing."  He 
turned  and  started  from  the  room. 

"Come  here.  Wicks!"  I  called.  "I  know 
when  you  hang  around  a  room  unnecessarily, 
as  you  have  been  doing  for  the  last  ten  min- 
utes, that  you  have  something  on  your  mind. 
Now,  out  with  it." 

"I  was  merely  going  to  arsk,  sir,  hif  I  'ad 
better  begin  lookin*  arfter  another  place, 
sir?" 

That  was  an  extraordinary  question.  Wicks 
had  been  with  the  Feldersons  ever  since  they 
were  married. 

"What  put  that  idea  into  your  head, 
Wicks?" 

He  was  far  more  confused  than  I  had  ever 
seen  him. 

"Meanin*  no  disrespect,  sir,  and  I  don't 
mean  to  be  hinquisitive  about  what  doesn't 


42  32   CALIBER 

concern  me,  but  I  couldn't  'elp  'earin'  a  bit 
of  what  took  place  this  arfternoon,  sir." 

Good  lord !  Fd  forgotten  there  might  have 
been  other  witnesses  to  the  scene  of  the  aft- 
ernoon besides  myself. 

"Do  the  other  servants  know  about  this, 
Wicks?" 

"Hi  think  they  do,  sir,  seein'  as  'ow  Mrs. 
Felderson  'as  been  actin'  and  talkin'  so 
queer." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  demanded. 

Wicks  struggled  for  composure.  The  sub- 
ject was  evidently  most  distasteful  to  his 
conservative  and  conventional  British  na- 
ture. 

"Hit  was  Annie,  Mrs.  Felderson's  maid, 
sir,  that  hupset  the  servants.  W'en  she  came 
down  from  hup-stairs,  she  said  as  'ow  Mrs. 
Felderson  was  a  ragin'  and  a  rampagin* 
around  *er  room,  sayin'  that  if  Mr.  Felderson 
didn't  give  *er  a  divorce,  she  would  do  vio- 
lence to  'im,  sir." 

"Did  Annie  hear  her  say  that?"  I  ques- 
tioned. 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  43 

"She  says  so,  sir." 

The  whole  thing  was  so  monstrous  that  I 
gasped.  For  this  awful  dime-novel  muck  to 
be  tumbled  into  the  middle  of  my  family  was 
too  sickening.  My  sister,  running  away  from 
her  husband  with  another  man  and  now 
threatening,  in  the  hearing  of  the  servants, 
to  kill  him,  unless  he  gave  her  a  divorce,  dis- 
gusted me  with  its  cheap  vulgarity.  I  hid, 
as  best  I  could,  the  tempest  that  was  brewing 
inside  me. 

"Wicks,  Mrs.  Felderson  is  not  well.  Tell 
the  servants  that  she  is  greatly  depressed 
over  an  accident  that  happened  to  a  friend. 
At  the  present  time,  she  is  so  upset  over  that, 
she  really  doesn't  know  what  she  is  saying. 
Quiet  them  in  some  way,  Wicks!  And  tell 
Annie  to  stay  with  Mrs.  Felderson !" 

"Very  good,  sir."    He  started  to  leave. 

"And,  Wicks—" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"There  is  no  need  of  your  looking  for  an- 
other place." 

"Yes,  sir.    Thank  you,  sir!" 


44  32   CALIBER 

Wicks  departed  and  I  was  left  to  my 
gloomy  thoughts.  Helen  must  be  brought 
to  her  senses.  Mary  and  I  must  work,  either 
to  bring  her  back  to  Jim,  or,  if  that  prove 
hopeless,  to  see  that  the  divorce  was  hurried 
as  much  as  possible.  The  very  thought  of 
having  Mary  along  with  me,  with  her  inex- 
haustible fund  of  God-given  humor  and  com- 
mon sense,  gave  me  a  vast  amount  of  comfort 
and  confidence. 

At  this  point,  Jim  came  in.  He  had  had  a 
bath  and  a  shave  and  had  put  on  a  dinner- 
coat,  looking  a  lot  more  fit  to  grapple  with 
his  troubles  than  he  had  the  last  time  I  had 
seen  him.  Only  in  his  eyes  did  he  show  the 
shock  he*d  received  that  day. 

"Communing  with  yourself  in  the  dark, 
Bupps?" — ^his  voice  was  natural  and  easy. 

"Yes,"  I  sighed,  "I've  been  trying  to  see  a 
way  out  of  this  mess.'* 

Jim  lit  a  cigarette  and  threw  himself  into 
a  chair.  For  a  few  moments  he  puffed  in 
silence,  taking  deep  inhalations  and  blowing 
the  smoke  against  the  lighted  tip,  so  that 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  45 

it  showed  all  the  rugged  strength  of  his 
superb  head. 

"What  would  you  say,  Bupps,  if  I  told  you 
everything  would  come  out  all  right?" 

"And  Helen  stay  with  you?"  I  asked  in- 
credulously. 

"And  Helen  stay  with  me,"  he  repeated 
calmly. 

"Of  her  own  free  will?" 

"Of  her  own  free  will,"  he  answered. 

"I  should  say  that  the  events  of  the  day 
had  addled  your  brain  and  that  you  are  a 
damned  inconsiderate  brother-in-law  to  try 
to  make  a  fool  of  me." 

"I  mean  it,  Bupps,"  he  said  quietly. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  demanded. 

"That  everything  will  come  out  all  right," 
he  smiled. 

"But  how,  man?"  His  complacency  almost 
drove  me  wild. 

"Bupps,  have  you  noticed  how  much  money 
Woods  has  been  spending  around  here — ^hia 
extravagant  way  of  living?  Where  do  you 
think  that  money  comes  from  ?" 


|6  32  CALIBER 

**His  contracts  with  the  French  Govern- 
ment," I  repHed. 

"But  I  happen  to  know  he  didn't  land  those 
contracts.  That's  the  reason  he  beat  it  so 
suddenly  when  we  got  into  the  war."  He 
tossed  his  cigarette  into  the  fire. 

"His  salary  from  the  French,  then.  They 
must  have  paid  him  some  kind  of  salary." 

"Have  you  never  heard  what  ridiculously 
small  salaries  the  French  Government  pays 
its  officers?" 

It  was  true  that  Woods  could  never  have 
lived  as  he  did  on  ten  times  the  salary  of  a 
French  captain. 

"His  own  private  fortune  then,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"Ah!  There's  the  point!  If  he  has  a  pri- 
vate fortune,  then  my  whole  case  falls  to 
pieces.  That's  what  I've  got  to  find  out. 
Woods  has  been  playing  for  a  big  stake,  and 
I  think  he  has  been  playing  with  other  peo- 
ple's money.  Did  you  notice  how  he  flushed 
this  afternoon  when  I  suggested  looking  into 
his  private  affairs  ?    It  was  the  veriest  acci- 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  47 

dent — I  was  stalling  for  time — ^but  when  I 
saw  him  color  up  I  knew  I'd  touched  a  sore 
spot.  No,  Bupps,  I  don't  think  Woods  has  a 
private  fortune." 

"But  even  if  you  show  him  up  as  worth- 
less, will  Helen  come  back  to  you,  Jim  ?" 

The  color  came  to  his  face  and  he  laughed 
with  a  queer  twist  to  his  mouth. 

"Am  I  as  horrible  as  all  that,  Bupps  ?" 

His  words  brought  a  lump  to  my  throat. 
I  went  over  to  him  and  almost  hugged  him. 

"Jim,  you're  such  a  peach — dammit  all — " 

I  heard  a  light  step  behind  me. 

"Oh,  Bupps !"  laughed  Mary,  "if  you'd  only 
make  love  to  me  in  that  ardent  fashion,  I'd 
drag  you  to  the  altar  by  your  few  remaining 
hairs." 

I  stood  up,  blushing  in  spite  of  myself. 
She  can  always  make  me  feel  that  whatever 
I  am  doing  is  either  stupid  or  foolish. 

"Dinner  is  served,  and  I'm  starving.  Come 
on,  people !"  she  announced,  leading  the  way 
to  the  dining-room. 

"Where's  Helen?"  T  asked. 


48  32   CALIBER 

"She's  not  coming  down.  She  has  a  slight 
headache,"  Mary  answered,  giving  me  a 
warning  look.  "I  am  delegated  to  be  lady 
of  the  manor  this  evening."  She  looked  so 
adorable  as  she  curtsied  to  us  that  I  felt  an 
almost  uncontrollable  impulse  to  grab  her  in 
my  arms  and  smother  her  with  kisses,  but 
remembering  what  she  had  done  to  me  once 
when  I  yielded  to  impulse,  I  refrained. 

When  we  sat  down  to  the  table,  Helen's 
empty  place  threatened  to  cast  a  gloom  over 
the  party,  so  Mary  told  Wicks  to  remove  it. 

"It's  too  much  like  Banquo's  ghost,"  she 
whispered,  laughing  merrily  at  Jim. 

"Speaking  of  ghosts,"  said  Jim  turning  to 
me,  "I  hear  the  labor  people  are  asking  the 
governor  to  pardon  Zalnitch." 

"A  lot  of  good  it  will  do  them,"  I  re- 
sponded. "If  ever  a  man  deserved  hanging, 
he  does." 

"I  know,  but  labor  is  awfully  strong  now, 
and  with  the  unsettled  social  conditions  in 
the  state,  a  bigger  man  than  Governor  Fallon 
might  find  it  expedient  to  let  Zalnitch  off." 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  49 

**Who  is  Zalnitch?  Don't  think  I've  met  the 
gentleman,"  Mary  said. 

"He's  the  Russian  who  was  supposed  to  be 
the  ring-leader  of  the  gang  that  blew  up  the 
Yellow  Funnel  steamship  piers  in  1915,"  I 
explained. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  he  hasn't  been  hanged 
yet?" 

"Yes !"  Jim  answered.  "And  what's  more, 
I'm  afraid  he's  going  to  be  pardoned." 

"Not  really,  Jim?"  I  queried. 

"Yes!  I'm  almost  sure  of  it.  Fallon  is  a 
machine  man  before  everything  else,  although 
he  was  elected  on  a  pro-American  ticket. 
They  are  threatening  to  do  all  kinds  of  things 
to  him,  just  as  they  threatened  me,  unless 
Zalnitch  goes  free,  and  I  think  Fallon  is 
afraid  of  them,  not  physically  perhaps,  but 
politically.     He  wants  reelection." 

Jim  had  helped  the  prosecuting  attorney 
convict  Zalnitch;  in  fact  it  was  Jim's  work 
more  than  anything  else  that  had  sent  the 
Russian  to  prison.  At  the  time,  Jim  had  re- 
ceived a  lot  of  threatening  letters,  just  as 


50  32  CALIBER 

every  other  American  who  denounced  the 
Germans  before  we  entered  the  war  had  re- 
ceived them.  Nothing  had  come  of  it,  of 
course,  and  after  we  went  in,  the  whole  mat- 
ter dropped  from  public  attention.  Zalnitch 
had  been  sent  to  prison,  but  his  friends  had 
worked  constantly  for  commutation  of  his 
sentence.  With  labor's  new  power,  due  to  the 
fear  of  Bolshevism,  they  were  again  bringing 
influence  to  bear  on  the  governor. 

Wicks  had  removed  the  soup  plates  and 
was  bringing  in  the  roast,  when  Annie  ap- 
peared.   The  girl  was  both  frightened  and 
angry. 
"Mr.  Felderson?" 

Jim  looked  up.    '*What  is  it,  Annie?" 
**Will  you  come  up-stairs,  please,  sir?" 
Mary  pushed  back  her  chair,  "I'll  go,  Jim." 
"It's  Mr.  Felderson  that's  wanted,"  Annie 
said  with  just  a  touch  of  asperity. 

"Yes,  you  two  better  stay  here  and  amuse 
each  other,"  said  Jim.    "Bupps,  you  carve  I" 
"If  Bupps  carves,  I'm  sure  to  be  amused," 
laughed  Mary. 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  51 

Jim  left,  and  I  went  around  to  his  place. 
If  there  is  one  thing  I  do  more  badly  than 
another,  it  is  carving.  At  home  it's  done  in 
the  kitchen,  but  Jim  takes  great  pride  in  the 
neatness  and  celerity  with  which  he  sepa- 
rates the  component  parts  of  a  fowl  and  so 
insists  on  having  the  undissected  whole 
brought  to  the  table. 

"What  is  it  to-night?"  Mary  asked  as  I 
eyed  my  task  with  disfavor. 

"Roast  duck."    I  tried  to  speak  casually. 

"Wait,  Bupps,  while  Wicks  lays  the  oil- 
cloth and  I  get  an  umbrella." 

"Smarty !"  I  responded,  grabbing  my  tools 
firmly,  "you  wait  and  see !  I  watched  Jim  the 
last  time  he  carved  one  of  these  and  I  know 
just  how  it's  done." 

I  speared  for  the  duck's  back,  but  the  fork 
skidded  down  the  slippery  side  of  the  bird 
and  spattered  a  drop  of  gravy  in  front  of  me. 

"I'm  waiting  and  seeing,"  Mary  chided. 

**Well,  you  wanted  some  gravy,  didn't 
you?" 

**Yes,  but  on  my  plate,  please." 


52  32   CALIBER 

This  time  I  placed  the  tines  of  the  fork 
carefully  on  the  exact  middle  of  the  duck's 
breast  and  gently  pushed,  giving  some  aid 
and  comfort  with  my  knife.  The  little  beast 
eased  over  on  the  platter  an  inch  or  two. 

"The  thing's  still  alive,"  I  exclaimed,  get- 
ting mad. 

"K  you'll  let  me  have  full  control,  I'll  carve 
it  for  you,"  Mary  spoke  up. 

"Come  on,  then,"  I  responded,  gladly  relin- 
quishing my  place.  With  a  deftness  and  ease 
that  could  only  be  explained  by  the  fact  that 
the  duck  was  ready  and  willing  to  be  carved, 
she  removed  the  legs  and  then  demolished 
the  bird  altogether. 

There  was  the  sound  of  voices  raised  in 
altercation  up-stairs,  the  slamming  of  a  door 
and  the  patter  of  feet  rapidly  descending  the 
steps.  The  next  moment  Helen  burst  into 
the  room.  She  was  fully  dressed  for  going 
out  and  was  pinning  on  her  hat  with  spiteful 
little  jabs. 

"Will  you  take  me  home,  Warren?" 

Mary  left  me  and  went  over  to  her. 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  53 

'*What  has  happened,  Helen?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  stay  here  another  minute.  It 
is  bad  enough  to  have  to  stay  in  the  same 
house  with  a  man  you  loathe,  but  when  a 
husband  bribes  his  wife's  servants  to  spy  on 
her  and  watch  over  her  as  though  she  were 
a  dangerous  lunatic — " 

Her  eyes  were  blazing.  Mary  put  her  arm 
around  her  and  tried  to  quiet  her. 

"Helen,  dear,  you  don't  know  how  ridicu- 
lous that  is.    No  one  is  spying  on  you." 

Helen  tore  herself  away. 

"That's  right,  stand  up  for  him!  You're 
all  against  me,  I  know.  The  only  reason  War- 
ren brought  you  here,  was  to  try  to  talk  me 
into  staying  with  him.  Well,  I  won't,  you  un- 
derstand ?  I  won't !  I  hate  him !  I  could  kill 
him!  If  you  won't  take  me  home,  Warren, 
I'll  go  alone."     She  was  almost  hysterical. 

"Have  you  thought  what  this  would  do  to 
mother?"  I  asked.  "She  doesn't  know  you've 
quarreled  with  Jim.  If  she  found  out  you 
were  contemplating  a  divorce,  it  would  kill 
her.    You  know  how  weak  she  is." 


64  82   CALIBER 

I  heard  Jim's  heavy  tread  coming  dowtt- 
stairs. 

"Can  I  stay  with  you,  Mary?"  Big  tears 
stood  in  Helen's  eyes  and  she  seemed  on  the 
verge  of  a  complete  breakdown. 

"Of  course,  Honey-bunch !"  Mary  respond- 
ed, kissing  her  and  leading  her  into  the  draw- 
ing-room. "Just  go  in  there  and  lie  down 
while  I  get  my  things." 

As  Helen  walked  from  the  room,  Jim  came 
in.  Mary  turned  toward  us,  looked  us  over 
for  the  briefest  moment  and  whispered,  "You 
men  are  brutes !"  As  she  ran  up-stairs,  Jim 
gazed  after  her.  That  same  gray  look  had 
come  back  into  his  face. 

"I  guess  we  are,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
head,  **but  I  don't  know  how  or  why." 

I  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  and  went  for 
my  coat.  Whether  he  realized  it  or  not,  I 
knew  Helen  would  never  come  back  to  him. 

I  went  out  to  the  car  and  turned  on  the 
lights.  A  white  moon  was  sailing  through  a 
sky  cluttered  with  puffy  clouds,  its  soft  radi- 
ance bathing  the  house  and  grounds  in  mel- 


I  COULD  KILL  HIM  5S 

low  loveliness.  It  all  seemed  so  remote  from 
the  sordid  quarrel  inside  that  its  beauty  was 
enhanced  by  the  contrast.  Here  was  a  night 
when  the  whole  world  should  be  in  love.  Na- 
ture herself  conspired  to  that  end.  And  yet, 
there  were  thousands  of  men  and  women 
who  were  so  forgetful  of  everything  except 
their  own  petty  differences  that  they  turned 
their  backs  to  the  beauty  around  them,  in 
order  to  try  to  hurt  each  other. 

As  Helen  and  Mary  came  out  of  the  door, 
I  climbed  into  the  car  and  said  to  myself, 
"Damn  men,  damn  women,  danm  every- 
thing!" 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

THE  WORST  HAPPENS 

I  WAS  late  getting  down  to  the  office  the 
next  morning,  for  I  had  gone  back  to 
Jim's  and  talked  till  all  hours.  It  seemed 
that  my  instructions  to  Wicks,  to  tell  Annie 
to  stay  with  Helen,  had  been  taken  quite 
literally  by  that  estimable  pair,  for  when 
Helen  had  told  the  girl  to  leave  she  had  re- 
fused, saying  that  Mr.  Felderson  had  ordered 
her  to  stay.  That  was  what  had  precipitated 
the  quarrel. 

Even  when  I  left  Jim,  to  go  to  bed,  I  had 
heard  him  walking  back  and  forth  in  his 
room,  and  once  during  the  night,  I  heard  him 
shut  his  door.  Thinking  perhaps  he  might 
want  me  with  him,  I  went  to  his  door  and 
knocked.  Jim  was  untying  his  shoes  and  ex- 
plained that,  unable  to  sleep,  he  had  gone  out 
for  a  walk.  The  clock  on  the  mantel-piece 
showed  half  past  four. 
In  spite  of  the  fact  he  had  practically  no 
56 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  57 

sleep  the  night  before,  he  was  down  at  his 
usual  hour,  nine  o'clock,  and  when  I  went  into 
his  office  to  see  him,  there  was  no  sign  of 
fatigue  on  his  face. 

"Any  news?"  I  inquired. 

"This  may  interest  you,"  and  he  tossed 
over  the  morning  paper  folded  to  an  article 
on  the  first  page. 

ZALNITCH  FREED 


GOVERNOR  FALLON  PARDONS  MAN  IM- 
PLICATED IN  YELLOW  PIER 
EXPLOSION 


Prisoner  Upon  Release  Makes  Terrific  Indict- 
ment Against  Those  Responsible  for 
His  Imprisonment 


I  glanced  hurriedly  down  the  long  article. 
One  paragraph  in  particular  caught  my  eye. 
It  was  part  of  a  quotation  from  Zalnitch*s 
"speech"  to  the  reporters. 

"Those  who  were  responsible  for  my  im- 
prisonment may  well  regret  the  fact  that  jus- 


^  82   CALIBER 

lice  has  at  lasl  been  given  m6.  I  shall  not 
rest  until  I  lay  before  the  working  classes  the 
extent  to  which  the  processes  of  law  can  be 
distorted  in  this  state,  and  rouse  them  to 
overthrow  and  drive  out  those  who  have  the 
power  of  depriving  them  of  their  rights  and 
their  liberty.  I  shall  not  rest  until  I  see  a 
full  meed  of  punishment  brought  to  those 
who  have  punished  me  and  hundreds  like  me. 
Their  money  and  their  high  position  will  not 
help  them  to  escape  a  just  retribution." 

"It  looks  as  though  our  friend  was  going  to 
have  a  very  restless  time,"  I  commented, 
after  reading  the  passage  aloud  to  Jim. 

"'Vengeance  is  mine/  saith  Zalnitch." 
Jim's  eyes  twinkled. 

"You're  not  afraid  of  him,  are  you,  Jim?" 
I  asked. 

"No  more  now  than  ever,  Bupps." 

His  face  suddenly  clouded  over.  "Wouldn't 
it  clear  the  air,  though,  if  they  did  carry  out 
their  funny  little  threats  and  put  me  out  of 
the  way  ?  When  I  think  of  some  of  the  things 
Helen  has  said  to  me  during  the  last  month, 
I  almost  wish  they  would." 

"That  sounds  weak  and  silly,"  I  scoffed; 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  59 

**not  a  bit  like  you,  Jim.  Cheer  up !  Givd 
Helen  a  divorce  and  let  her  go!  She's  not 
worth  all  this  heartache." 

Jim  sat  for  a  moment  thinking.  **You 
don't  know  what  this  has  done  to  me,  Bupps. 
It's  not  as  though  divorcing  Helen  would 
straighten  the  whole  matter  out.  Ever  since 
I've  known  Helen  I've — idolized  her — fool- 
ishly, perhaps.  She  has  been  the  one  big 
thing  worth  working  for ;  the  thing  I've  built 
my  whole  life  around.  I've  got  to  fight  for 
her,  Bupps.  I  can't  let  her  smash  my  ideala 
all  to  pieces.  I've  got  to  make  her  live  up  to 
what  I've  always  believed  her  to  be." 

The  tone  of  the  man,  the  dead  seriousness 
of  his  words,  made  me  want  to  disown  Helen 
and  then  kill  Woods.  I  left  the  room  with 
my  eyes  a  bit  misty  and  did  my  best,  in  the 
case  I  was  working  on,  to  forget. 

For  two  days  I  was  kept  so  busy  I  hardly 
saw  Jim  except  when  I  had  to  go  into  hia 
office  for  papers,  or  to  consult  an  authority. 
I  was  trying  to  win  a  case  against  the  L.  L, 
&  G.  railroad,  and  though  I  knew  my  client 


BO  32   CALIBER 

could  never  pay  me  a  decent  fee,  even  if  I 
should  win,  I  was  pitted  against  some  of  the 
best  lawyws  in  the  state,  and  was  anxious 
for  the  prestige  that  a  verdict  in  my  favor 
would  give  me.  The  case  was  going  my  way, 
or  seemed  to  be,  but  the  opposition  was  fight- 
ing harder  every  day,  so  that  I  had  time  for 
little  else  than  food,  sleep  and  work.  Frank 
Woods  had  apparently  left  town,  either  on 
business  or  to  give  Helen  a  clear  field  to 
influence  Jim.  Helen  was  still  at  Mary's,  and 
her  presence  on  a  visit  there  was  so  natural 
that  it  hid  her  separation  from  Jim  better 
than  if  she  had  gone  home  to  mother. 

I  was  just  leaving  for  court  one  morning 
when  Jim  called  me  into  his  office.  There 
was  a  gleam  of  triumph  in  his  eyes  and  his 
whole  attitude  was  one  of  cheerful  excite- 
ment. 

"Have  you  a  minute,  Bupps?" 

"Only  a  minute,  Jim.  This  is  the  day  of 
days  for  me." 

There  were  several  letters  and  telegrams 
lying  on  the  table.     Jim  pointed  exultantly 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  61 

to  them  and  cried:  "I've  got  him,  BuppsI 
There  is  enough  evidence  there  to  send  Woods 
up  for  twenty  years.  I  wouldn't  have  used 
such  underhand  methods  against  any  one 
else,  against  anything  but  a  snake,  but  I  had 
to  win,  I  had  to  win !" 

I  rushed  to  the  table  and  rapidly  scanned 
one  of  the  telegrams. 

"You've  started  at  the  wrong  end,  but  it 
doesn't  matter.  Frank  Woods  has  used 
the  money  entrusted  him  by  the  French 
Government  to  gamble  with.  He  counted  on 
the  contracts  with  the  International  Biplane 
people  to  bring  him  clean  and  leave  him  a 
comfortable  fortune  besides.  The  end  of  the 
war  and  the  wholesale  cancellation  of  govern- 
ment contracts  killed  that.  To  cover  his 
deficits,  he  borrowed  from  the  Capitol  Loan 
and  Trust,  and  they  are  hunting  for  their 
money  now." 

"How  did  you  find  all  this  out,  Jim?"  I 
demanded  breathlessly. 

"From  friends,  good  friends,  Bupps.  Men 
who  knew  that  if  I  asked  for  this  unusual 


62  32   CALIBER 

Jnformation,  I  had  need  of  it  and  that  I 
wouldn't  abuse  their  confidence." 

"And  now  that  you've  got  it,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  with  it?" 

"I  have  sent  messages  to  Woods,  to  his 
apartment,  to  the  club  and  to  the  Interna- 
tional plant,  saying  that  I  want  to  see  him. 
I  know  he  is  working  like  the  devil  to  get  the 
contracts  to  furnish  the  government  with 
mail  planes  for  next  year.  If  he  gets  that 
contract,  he  may  possibly  pull  through,  for 
the  bank  would  probably  extend  his  credit, 
but  if  knowledge  of  his  illegal  use  of  the 
money  entrusted  to  him  by  the  French 
Government  ever  gets  out,  he  knows  it's  the 
stripes  without  the  stars  for  him." 

"Be  careful  when  you  meet  him,  Jim,"  I 
warned.  "He'll  go  to  the  limit,  you  know, 
to  save  himself." 

"He's  all  front,  Bupps;  just  like  Zalnitch. 
I'll  give  him  three  days  to  straighten  out  his 
affairs  and  get  away.  If  he  hasn't  left  by 
then,  I'll  put  all  the  evidence  I  have  into  the 
hands  of  the  Capitol  Loan  and  Trust." 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  63 

"Are  you  going  to  tell  Helen  about  this?" 
I  asked. 

Jim  pondered  a  moment.  "I  haven't  de- 
cided that  yet.  If  I  was  sure  Woods  would 
go  away  without  any  trouble,  I  think  I'd  leave 
her  in  ignorance;  but  he  might  use  her  to 
save  himself." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"I'm  not  so  blind  I  can't  see  that  Helen's 
infatuated  with  the  man.  If  he  is  blackguard 
enough  to  ask  her  again  to  go  with  him,  I 
think  she  would  go,  and  that  would  pretty 
effectively  tie  my  hands." 

"You  mean  that  for  Helen's  sake  you 
wouldn't  prosecute  Woods?"  I  demanded. 
"That's  stupid  sentimentality." 

"It's  for  Helen's  sake  that  I'm  doing  aU 
this,"  Jim  insisted.  "Don't  think  for  a 
moment  I  would  stop  the  prosecution  just 
because  she  was  with  him.  The  reason  my 
hands  would  be  tied  is  because  Helen's  money 
would  pay  his  obligations." 

"Helen's  money?"  I  laughed.  "Helen 
hasn't  as  much  as  I  have.'* 


64  32   CALIBER 

Jim  flushed.  'Helen  is  quite  a  wealthy 
woman,  Bupps.  When  I  went  into  the  army 
I  wanted  to  leave  Helen  perfectly  easy  in  a 
financial  way  while  I  was  gone,  so  I  trans- 
ferred all  my  railroad  stock  to  her,  so  that 
she  might  draw  the  interest.  I  haven't  asked 
her  for  it  since  I  came  home,  because,  in  the 
light  of  our  recent  differences,  I  was  afraid 
she  might  think  I  didn't  trust  her." 

"And  do  you  suppose  Woods  knows  that?" 

"Of  course  he  knows  it!"  Jim  burst  out. 
"She  must  have  told  him.  Why  do  you 
suppose  he  played  around  so  long  before 
deciding  to  make  love  to  Helen  ?  Oh,  it's  all 
so  simple  and  clear  to  me  now  that  I  wonder 
at  my  stupidity." 

I  glanced  at  my  watch. 

"Good  lord,  Jim !  You've  almost  made  me 
lose  my  case.  I  have  only  three  minutes  to 
get  to  the  court-house.  Hold  up  the  climax 
until  I  get  back,  if  you  can." 

I  jumped  for  the  elevator  and  rushed  to 
my  appointment,  getting  there  just  in  time. 
The  news  of  the  morning  had  so  raised  my 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  65 

spirits  that  I  was  filled  with  an  immense 
enthusiasm.  Everything  went  my  way.  My 
summing  up  was  a  masterpiece  of  logic,  if  I 
do  say  so  myself,  and  my  client  received  a 
substantial  judgment. 

There  is  no  moment  sweeter  in  a  young 
lawyer's  life  than  when  another  lawyer,  of 
big  reputation,  congratulates  him  on  his  con- 
duct of  a  case.  My  cup  was  filled  to 
overflowing,  and  I  must  confess  I  had  little 
thought  for  Jim's  affairs  when  I  lunched  that 
day  with  Stevenson  and  McGuire,  councils 
for  the  L.  L.  &  G.  The  prognostications  that 
they  made  for  my  future  were  so  exaggerated 
that  a  bigger  man  than  I  might  well  have 
been  excused  for  increased  head  and  chest 
measurements. 

At  half  past  two  I  went  back  to  the  office 
to  announce  the  good  news  to  Jim.  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  before  luncheon  to  spend 
the  afternoon  on  the  links  in  honor  of  my 
victory,  but  the  clouds,  which  had  been  heavy 
during  the  morning,  by  two  o'clock  opened  up 
a  steady  drizzle.     Jim  was  at  his  desk  when 


6^  32   CALIBER 

I  came  in  bringing  the  glad  tidings.  He  got 
up  and  gripped  my  hand. 

"Good  boy,  Bupps!  I  knew  you'd  do  it. 
Thank  the  Lord  your  affairs  are  going  well 
anyway." 

"Has  something  happened  since  I've  been 
out?"  I  asked. 

"Yes.  The  First  National  telephoned  about 
eleven  o'clock  saying  that  Helen  wanted  to 
borrow  quite  a  large  sum  of  money  on  her 
railroad  stock  and  asking  if  I  knew  about  it. 
They  thought  the  money  was  probably  for 
me  and  they  wanted  to  ask  if  I'd  be  willing  to 
wait  a  few  days." 

"How  much  was  it?" 

"Fifty  thousand  dollars." 

"Is  the  stock  worth  that  much,  Jim  ?" 

**Yes,"  said  Jim  seriously,  "the  stock  is 
worth  twice  that.  That's  why  I  have  to  go 
slow.  She  could  sell  that  stock  for  fifty 
thousand  at  any  broker's  in  five  minutes." 

I  whistled.  "Gee!  Fifty  thousand.  Woods 
must  have  asked  her  for  it  because  he  knew 
you  were  after  him." 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  &t 

"It's  open  warfare  now.  I  told  the  bank  I 
knew  what  the  money  was  for  and  that  it 
would  cause  no  inconvenience  to  me  to  have 
them  hold  up  the  loan  for  a  few  days.  In 
fact  I  asked  Sherwood,  the  cashier,  to  wait 
until  he  saw  me  before  making  the  loan." 

Just  then  the  telephone  rang.  Jim  an- 
swered it. 

"Hello — Yes — Woods  ? — Where  are  you 
now?"  He  listened  a  moment.  "I  under- 
stand— Eight-thirty  promptly? — I'll  be  there 
— ^Yes,  I  understand — I'll  be  there." 

He  hung  up  the  receiver  and  looked  at  me 
with  twinkling  eyes. 

"The  shoe  is  beginning  to  pinch,  Bupps. 
That  was  Woods.  He  asks  me  to  meet  him 
alone  this  evening  at  the  country-club,  at 
eight-thirty  promptly.  Says  he  wants  to  see 
me  urgently  on  business  that  concerns  us 
both." 

"Did  he  ask  you  to  come  alone?" 
,     "Yes.     He  distinctly  said  that  I  was  to 
come  alone  and  be  prompt." 

"Jim,"  I  argued,  "you  can't  go  out  there 


68  32   CALIBER 

alone  to  meet  that  man.    It's  too  infernally 
dangerous." 

"There's  no  danger,  Bupps;  but  I'm  not 
going  alone.    Helen  is  going  with  me." 

He  opened  the  bottom  drawer  of  his  desk 
and  pulled  out  a  leather  portfolio,  into  which 
he  put  all  the  letters  and  telegrams  that  were 
scattered  about  his  desk. 

"I'm  going  to  prove  to  Helen,  in  his  pres- 
ence, what  kind  of  man  he  is ;  that  he  loves 
her  only  for  the  money  I  gave  her,  and  to 
save  his  yellow  hide.  I'm  going  to  tear  out 
of  her  heart  all  the  affection  she  ever  had 
for  him.  I  think,  after  that,  she  will  not  only 
come  back  to  me,  but  she  will  love  me  all  the 
more  for  having  known  Frank  Woods.  No 
matter  how  badly  a  leg  or  an  arm  may  be 
shattered,  a  quick,  clean  operation  may  cause 
the  parts  to  grow  together  again,  stronger 
than  they  were  before.  I  think  I  win,  Bupps." 

"Still,  I  believe  you  ought  to  carry  a  gun, 
in  case  he  gets  nasty." 

"I  will,  if  you  like,"  he  responded ;  "but  I 
won't  use  it,  no  matter  what  happens." 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  69 

I  left  the  office,  vaguely  disquieted  with  the 
thought  of  Jim  going  out  to  the  club  to  face 
a  man  as  dangerous  and  desperate  as  Frank 
Woods.  When  a  fellow  of  his  standing  sees 
the  penitentiary  looming  up  in  his  fore- 
ground he's  capable  of  anything.  Helen, 
herself,  in  the  crazed  condition  I  had  seen  her 
the  other  night,  was  an  added  element  of 
danger.  I  didn't  like  the  looks  of  the  situa- 
tion any  way  I  turned. 

I  climbed  into  my  car  and  drove  slowly 
through  the  wet  slippery  streets.  The  wind- 
shield was  so  covered  with  rain-drops  that  I 
lowered  it  to  see  the  better,  and  the  autumn 
rain,  beating  into  my  face,  soon  swept  away 
my  gloomy  forebodings.  After  all,  no  man 
was  going  to  stick  his  neck  into  the  hang- 
man's noose,  no  matter  how  eager  he  was  for 
revenge.  This  was  the  twentieth  century, 
in  which  no  man  could  deliberately  flout  the 
law.  Frank  Woods  would  never  have  invited 
Jim  to  a  "rendezvous"  so  public  as  the 
country-club,  if  he  planned  mischief.  When 
he  found  out  how  much  Jim  knew,  realizing 


70  32   CALIBER 

the  game  was  up,  he  would  leave  town 
quietly.  Helen  certainly  would  shake  Woods 
when  she  learned  of  his  dishonesty  and 
trickery.  Surely,  no  woman  with  Helen's 
pride  could  learn  how  she  had  been  duped 
without  hating  the  man  who  duped  her. 

I  stopped  at  the  University  Union  and 
found  the  card  room  well  filled  with  bridge 
players.  The  rainy  afternoon  had  driven  the 
golfers  to  cards,  and  as  one  of  the  men,  Terry 
O'Connel,  was  on  the  point  of  leaving,  I  took 
his  place.  I  played  till  seven  and  then 
started  home  to  dinner.  The  rain  had 
stopped  and  a  fresh  chilly  wind  was  rippling 
the  pools  in  the  streets  and  rapidly  drying 
the  sidewalks.  The  prospect  of  a  cold 
blustery  evening  made  me  look  forward  with 
pleasure  to  the  warm  comfort  of  my  study, 
and  a  good  book. 

I  had  just  finished  a  solitary  dinner — 
mother  being  confined  to  her  room — and  had 
settled  down  in  dressing  gown  and  slippers 
before  my  cheerful  fire,  when  the  telephone 
rang.    I  put  down  my  book  and  tried  to  think 


THE  WORST  HAPPENS  71' 

of  some  excuse  for  staying  home,  in  case  it 
was  my  bridge-playing  friends  of  the  after- 
noon wanting  me  to  come  back  to  the  club. 
A  strange  voice  called  from  the  other  end  of 
the  wire. 

"Mr.  Thompson?" 

"Yes." 

"There  has  been  an  accident  to  your  broth- 
er-in-law's car." 

"What?— Where?— Who  is  this  talking?" 
I  shouted  breathlessly. 

"This  is  Captain  Wadsworth  of  the  North 
District  Police  Station  speaking.  Your 
brother-in-law  had  a  very  bad  accident  with 
his  car  at  the  second  bridge  on  the  Blandes- 
ville  Road.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Felderson 
were  pretty  badly  injured." 

"Where  are  they  now?"  I  gasped,  fear 
clutching  at  my  throat. 

"They  have  been  taken  to  St.  Mary's  Hos- 
pital." 

I  slammed  down  the  receiver  and  tore  into 
my  clothes.  I  ran  out  to  the  car  and  drove 
through  the  dark  wet  streets  regardless  of 


72  32   CALIBER 

speed  laws.  From  out  the  gray  gloom,  the 
heavy  bulk  and  lighted  windows  of  St.  Mary's 
loomed  just  ahead.  I  ran  up  the  steps  and 
went  at  once  to  the  office.  Three  nurses  were 
standing  there  talking. 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  they  have  taken 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Felderson?" 

**Were  they  the  people  in  the  automobile 
accident?" 

I  nodded  my  head. 

One  of  the  nurses  led  me  to  a  large  room 
on  the  second  floor.  As  we  neared  the  door 
a  young  interne,  so  the  nurse  told  me,  came 
out.  He  was  thoughtfully  polishing  his 
glasses. 

"I  am  Warren  Thompson,  Mr.  Felderson's 
brother-in-law,"  I  explained.  "Can  you  tell 
me  how  badly  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Felderson  were 
hurt?" 

He  put  his  glasses  back  on  his  nose  and 
looked  at  me  sjnnpathetically. 

"Mr.  Felderson  is  dead,  and  Mrs.  Felderson 
Is  dying,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER 

HAVE  you  ever  had  the  whole  world  stop 
for  you?  Well,  that's  what  happened 
when  that  young  interne  told  me  that  Jim 
was  dead.  I  must  have  been  half  mad  for  a 
few  moments,  at  least  they  said  I  acted  that 
way. 

Sometimes,  tragic  news  deadens  the  senses, 
like  the  brief  numbness  that  follows  the  sud- 
den cutting  off  of  a  limb,  the  pain  not  mani- 
festing itself  until  some  time  afterward.  But 
with  me,  the  fact  of  Jim's  death  clawed  and 
tore  at  the  very  foundation  of  my  brain.  It 
stamped  itself  into  my  sensibilities  with  such 
crushing  force  that  I  writhed  under  the 
burden  of  its  bitter  actuality.  I  felt  as 
though  I,  myself,  had  died  and  my  spirit, 
snatched  from  the  brilliant,  airy  sunlight  of 
life,  had  been  plunged  into  the  hammering 
emptiness  of  hell.  "Jim  is  dead — big,  happy, 
73 


74  32  CALIBER 

kind-hearted  Jim  is  dead,"  ached  through 
my  brain. 

They  gave  me  something  to  drink — am- 
monia, I  think — and  my  whirling  head  began 
to  clear. 

"Can  I  see  Mrs.  Felderson?"  I  asked  the 
interne.  It  was  he  who  had  given  me  the 
ammonia. 

"I'm  afraid  not,"  he  replied.  "She  is  being 
prepared  for  the  operating  table." 

"There  is  a  chance,  then,  of  her  being 
saved?"     I  clutched  at  his  arm. 

He  slowly  shook  his  head.  "One  chance  in 
a  thousand  only,  I'm  afraid.  There  was 
severe  concussion  of  the  brain  and  a  slight 
displacement  of  one  of  the  cranial  vertebra. 
Luckily,  Doctor  Forbes  is  here,  and  if  any  one 
can  save  her,  he  can."  He  got  up  from  his 
seat  beside  me.  "Now,  Mr.  Thompson,  I 
advise  you  to  go  home  and  get  a  good  night's 
rest.  You  can  do  nothing  here,  and  the  next 
few  days  are  bound  to  be  a  great  strain." 

"You  will  telephone  me  at  once  the  result 
of  the  operation?"  I  asked  quickly. 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  75 

"I  wouldn't  count  too  much  on  the  opera- 
tion/* he  said  kindly,  "but  I  will  let  you 
know." 

He  turned  and  walked  back  toward  Helen's 
room.  Just  then  the  door  was  opened  and 
there  appeared  a  sort  of  elongated  baby-cab, 
without  a  top.  On  this  wheeling  table  was 
a  still  white  bundle,  from  which  a  stifled 
moan  escaped  now  and  then.  Shaken  with 
terror  and  nausea,  I  ran  for  the  stairs  and  did 
not  stop  until  I  got  into  my  car  and  was 
racing  away. 

As  I  drove,  my  brain  cleared  and  I  re- 
membered that  there  were  others  to  whom 
the  tragedy  was  almost  as  vital  as  to  myself 
and  who  ought  to  be  informed.  I  stopped  at 
a  comer  drug  store  and  called  up  Mary. 
Mother  should  not  be  told  until  a  physician 
could  assure  me  she  was  strong  enough  to 
stand  the  shock. 

Mary  w^as  wonderfully  sympathetic  and 
tender,  not  voluble  the  way  some  women 
would  have  been.  She  asked  me  if  I  had  been 
to  the  scene  of  the  accident,  and  when  I  told 


76  82   CALIBER 

her  I  was  just  going,  she  asked  me  if  I  wanted 
her  with  me.  As  it  was  after  ten  o'clock  and 
the  rain  had  begun  again,  I  told  her  "No," 
and  added  that  I'd  come  to  see  her  in  the 
morning. 

When  I  left  the  telephone-booth  the  (drug 
clerk  stared  at  me  inquisitively. 

"You  look  all  fagged  out,"  he  said  frankly. 

*Tm  not  feeling  very  well,"  I  replied, 
struggling  into  my  rain-coat. 

"Better  let  me  give  you  somethin*  to  fix 
you  up,"  he  suggested.  I  acquiesced,  and  he 
went  to  the  shelf  and  shook  some  white 
powder  into  a  glass.  Then  he  put  some  water 
with  it  and  it  phizzed  merrily.  I  drank  it  at 
a  gulp  and,  climbing  into  the  car,  started  for 
the  second  bridge  on  the  Blandesville  Road. 

The  drink  braced  me  up  and  as  I  drove  I 
began  to  recall  the  events  of  the  last  few 
days,  and  for  the  first  time  to  wonder  if  they 
had  any  connection  with  the  tragedy.  Cap- 
tain Wadsworth  had  told  me  it  was  an 
accident.  Could  Frank  Woods  have  been  in 
any  way  responsible?    No,  certainly  not,  for 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  71 

Helen  had  been  in  the  car,  and  he  surely 
would  never  have  done  anything  to  put  her 
life  in  jeopardy.  But  Woods  didn't  know 
that  she  was  there.  He  had  told  Jim  to  come 
out  alone ;  had  insisted  on  it,  in  fact.  It  was 
Jim's  idea  to  bring  Helen  with  him. 

My  heart  was  doing  a  hundred  revolutions 
to  the  minute.  Now  that  I  had  hit  on  this 
idea,  every  fiber  of  my  being  cried  out  that 
Frank  Woods  was  in  some  way  responsible. 
I  tried  to  urge  my  car  to  more  speed.  The 
wreck  would  surely  tell  me  something.  I 
determined  to  hunt  every  inch  of  ground 
around  the  place  for  a  clue.  Woods  would 
have  to  prove  to  me  that  he  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  accident  before  I'd  believe  him 
innocent. 

I  drove  up  the  long  hill  overlooking  the 
little  bridge  that  had  suddenly  assumed  such 
a  tragic  significance  in  my  life.  It  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hill,  about  half-way  between 
the  city  and  the  country-club  and  on  the  lone- 
liest stretch  of  the  entire  road.  There  are  no 
houses  about ;  the  city  not  having  grown  that 


78  32  CALIBER 

far  out  and  the  soil  being  entirely  unsuitable 
for  farming.  In  fact,  there  are  only  one  or 
two  large  trees  near  by,  to  break  the  desolate 
expanse,  the  vegetation  consisting  mostly  of 
thorny  bushes  springing  from  the  rocky  soil. 
There  have  been  several  accidents  at  the 
bridge,  for  its  narrowness  is  deceiving  and  it 
is  impossible  for  two  autos  to  pass.  Motor- 
ists, going  to  the  club,  usually  let  their  cars 
out  on  the  long  hill  and  if  another  car,  coming 
around  the  bend  from  the  opposite  direction, 
reaches  the  bridge  at  the  same  time,  only 
skilful  driving  and  good  brakes  can  avoid  a 
smash-up.  The  matter  has  been  brought  to 
the  attention  of  the  authorities  several  times, 
but  nothing  has  ever  been  done,  either  to 
widen  the  bridge  or  to  warn  automobilists  of 
the  danger. 

As  I  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  I  saw  that 
two  automobiles  had  stopped  at  the  bottom, 
and,  noticing  that  their  lights  blinked  as 
people  passed  back  and  forth  in  front  of 
them,  I  was  convinced  that  a  small  crowd  had 
gathered,  probably  out  of  curiosity.  I  slowed 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  79 

up  as  I  neared  the  spot  and  came  to  a  stop  at 
the  side  of  the  road.  A  motorcycle  cop 
walked  up  to  my  car. 

"Inspector  Robinson,  sir?" 

"No,"  I  answered,  "I  am  Warren  Thomp- 
son, brother-in-law  of  Mr.  Felderson,  who  had 
the  accident.  How  did  it  happen,  do  you 
know,  Sergeant?" 

"It  was  the  fault  of  the  bridge  again,  sir. 
I've  told  the  chief  that  something  ought  to  be 
done.  This  is  the  third  accident  in  six 
months.  We've  been  trying  to  find  the  other 
car." 

"What  other  car?"  I  asked. 

"The  car  that  made  Mr.  Felderson  take  the 
ditch,"  he  explained.  "He  must  have  been 
driving  fast — ^he  usually  did ;  many's  the  time 
I've  had  to  warn  him — and  must  have  seen 
that  the  other  car  would  meet  him  at  the 
bridge.  He  stopped  too  quick,  skidded  off 
the  road  and  turned  over  into  the  creek." 

I  shuddered  as  I  pictured  the  scene.  One 
of  the  automobiles  turned  around  and  the 
lights  picked  out  the  upturned  wheels  of 


80  32  CALIBER 

Jim*s  car.  It  looked  like  some  monster  whose 
back  had  been  broken.  It  was  a  large  Peck- 
with-Pierce  touring  car,  and  the  force  of  the 
crash  had  twisted  and  smashed  the  huge 
chassis.  Several  men  were  gathered  around 
the  car,  examining  it  with  the  aid  of  a  barn- 
lantern. 

"Where  were  the  bodies  found?"  I  asked, 
my  voice  trembling. 

"Mrs.  Felderson  was  over  there  on  the 
bank.  She  was  thrown  out  likely  when  the 
car  left  the  road.  Mr.  Felderson's  body  was 
under  the  machine." 

While  the  thought  of  the  heavy  weight 
crushing  the  life  out  of  Jim  sickened  me,  I 
thanked  God  that  death  must  have  been  in- 
stantaneous. 

"Do  you  know  who  found  them,  Sergeant?" 

He  pointed  to  a  man  standing  by  the  wreck. 
"That  man  over  there.  He  found  them  and 
took  them  to  the  hospital  after  sending  one 
of  his  friends  to  notify  the  police." 

The  man  evidently  heard  our  voices,  and 
came  over  to  us. 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  81 

"Is  this  the  inspector?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  I  replied,  "I  am  Mr.  Felderson's 
brother-in-law." 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry !"  he  said  quickly.  "May  I 
express  my  deep,  deep  sympathy?" 

"Thank  you.  Will  you  tell  me  how  you 
discovered  the  accident?" 

"I  had  been  out  to  Blandesville  on  business 
and  was  returning  with  a  party  of  friends. 
As  we  neared  the  bridge,  one  of  them  caught 
sight  of  the  upturned  automobile  in  the  creek, 
and  we  stopped.  We  found  Mrs.  Felderson 
first,  being  attracted  by  her  moans.  We  went 
at  once  to  the  car,  and  as  there  were  four  of 
us,  we  were  able  to  lift  the  automobile  suffi- 
ciently to  get  Mr.  Felderson  from  under  it. 
We  knew  that  the  woman  was  still  living, 
but  none  of  us  was  doctor  enough  to  tell 
whether  Mr.  Felderson  was  alive  or  not.  We 
carried  them  quickly  to  our  car  and  hurried 
to  St.  Mary's,  dropping  one  of  my  friends 
at  the  North  District  Station  to  inform  the 
police  what  had  occurred.  Afterward  we 
drove   back   here,   thinking   we   might   be 


82  32   CALIBER 

wanted  in  case  there  was  an  investiga- 
tion." 

"Did  you  see  the  lights  of  any  car  ahead 
of  you,  as  you  came  along  the  road?"  I  asked. 
"Did  any  car  pass  you,  going  in  the  same 
direction?" 

"A  car  turned  in  ahead  of  us  from  the  Mil- 
lerstown  Road  about  ten  minutes  before." 

"Do  you  think  that  might  have  been  the 
car  that  was  partly  responsible  for  this 
accident?"  I  queried. 

"Of  course,  no  one  could  be  sure  in  a  situar- 
tion  of  that  kind,  but  I  wouldn't  doubt  it  at 
all.    It  left  us  behind  as  if  we  were  tied." 

Another  car  had  driven  up  while  we  were 
talking  and  our  policeman  had  gone  over  to 
it  at  once.  He  came  back  now,  accompanied 
by  a  short  heavy-set  man  in  plain  clothes. 

"I  am  Inspector  Robinson,  detailed  to  ex- 
amine into  this  affair.  Were  you  the  man 
who  discovered  the  accident?"  he  asked, 
addressing  my  companion. 

**Yes,  Inspector;  Pickering  is  my  name. 
Fm  with  the  Benefit  Insurance  Company." 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  83 

He  told  the  circumstances  of  the  discovery  to 
the  plain-clothes  man,  who,  all  the  time 
Pickering  was  talking,  bustled  up  and  down 
and  around  the  car.  Finally  he  made  Pick- 
ering show  him  just  where  the  bodies  lay. 

"Distressing,  distressing,"  the  inspector 
chirped,  "dreadful  accident,  dreadful  indeed, 
but  quite  to  be  expected  with  fast  driving. 
If  they  will  risk  their  lives " 

"Inspector,"  I  broke  in,  "I  am  the  brother- 
in-law  of  the  man  who  drove  that  car.  While 
he  was  a  fast  driver,  he  was  not  a  careless 
one.  I've  never  known  him  to  have  an 
accident  before."  The  little  man  irritated  me. 

"That's  the  way  it  always  happens,"  he 
came  back  at  me;  "they  take  risks  a  dozen 
times  and  get  away  with  them,  and  then — 
Blooey!!" 

"But  aren't  you  going  to  find  the  other 
car?"  I  demanded. 

"What  other  car?"  he  snapped. 

"The  one  that  must  have  been  coming  from 
the  opposite  direction;  that  caused  this 
accident." 


84  32   CALIBER 

"Do  you  know  there  was  any  such  car?" 
he  bristled. 

"There  must  have  been,"  I  answered.  "No 
accident  has  ever  happened  here  except  under 
such  circumstances.  Besides,  Mr.  Pickering 
saw  a  car  turn  into  this  road  ahead  of  him 
not  ten  minutes  before  the  accident." 

Robinson  looked  from  me  to  Pickering  as 
though  we  were  both  conspiring  to  defeat 
justice. 

"Did  you  see  such  a  car?"  he  barked  at 
Pickering. 

'  "A  car  turned  out  of  the  Millerstown  Road 
and  went  toward  the  city  about  ten  minutes 
before  we  discovered  the  bodies,"  Pickering 
replied  evenly. 

"Why  didn't  you  say  so?"  the  detective 
asked  sharply.    "What  kind  of  a  car  was  it?" 

"A  black  limousine  with  wire  wheels.  I 
couldn't  see  the  number." 

Robinson's  humor  seemed  to  have  come 
back. 

"Now  we're  getting  on,"  he  said,  rubbing 
his  hands.     "That's  better.     That's  much 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  85 

better.  If  you  gentlemen  had  just  told  me 
that  in  the  first  place  we'd  have  saved  all  this 
time." 

He  turned  to  the  motorcycle  policeman. 
"Feeney,  go  over  to  Millerstown  and  inquire 
if  a  black  limousine  with  wire  wheels  stopped 
there  to-night  between  eight  and  nine 
o'clock." 

A  figure,  unnoticed  in  the  darkness,  ap- 
proached. It  proved  to  be  a  lanky  farmer, 
who  spoke  with  a  decided  drawl. 

"I  reckon  I  kin  help  ye  thar.  They  was  a 
big  limozine  tourin'  car  with  wire  wheels 
went  through  Millerstown  'bout  ha'f  past 
eight,  quat'  t'  nine.  I  know,  'cause  it  dum 
near  run  me  down." 

"Do  you  live  in  Millerstown  ?"  the  inspector 
questioned. 

"Yep !     Come  over  t*  see  the  accident." 

"Did  that  auto  stop  in  Millerstown  ?" 

The  farmer  chuckled  and  exi)ectorated. 
"It  didn't  even  hesitate." 

"Can  you  tell  us  anything  else  about  it?" 
I  spoke  up. 


86  32   CALIBER 

The  inspector  glared  at  me.  "I'll  conduct 
this  investigation,  Mr. — err " 

The  farmer  scratched  his  head.  "Waal, 
nothin*  much.  It  went  too  blamed  fast  fer 
me  to  git  mor'n  a  right  good  look,  but  I  did 
see  that  it  was  full  o*  men  an'  the  tail-light 
was  bu'sted  an*  they  wa'n't  no  license  on  it." 

"You're  sure  of  that?"  the  inspector 
asked. 

"Yep!"  he  said,  "I'm  sure,  'cause  I  was 
goin'  to  report  'em." 

Again  the  inspector  turned  to  Feeney,  who 
had  been  listening  intently. 

"Feeney,  go  in  and  tell  the  chief  to  issue 
instructions  to  all  the  force  to  keep  an  eye 
out  for  a  black  limousine  with  wire  wheels,  a 
broken  tail-light  and  no  license  tag!  My 
friend,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  farmer,  "I 
thank  you  for  your  information.  By  to-mor- 
row night  we'll  have  that  car  and  the  parties 
concerned.  By  gad !  They  had  their  nerve, 
running  away  after  the  accident.  The  damned 
rascals — killing  people  and  then  running 
away.    I'll  grill  their  toes  for  them," 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  87 

The  malice  of  the  little  detective,  his  readi- 
ness to  jump  from  one  conclusion  to  another, 
reminded  me  for  all  the  world  of  some  dis- 
agreeable, little,  barking  dog  that  chases 
every  passing  vehicle. 

I  bade  him  good  night,  shook  hands  with 
Pickering  and  was  on  my  way  back  to  my 
car,  when  another  automobile  drove  up. 
Three  men  jumped  out,  and  as  they  passed 
in  front  of  the  lamps,  I  recognized  Lawrence 
Brown  and  Fred  Paisley,  from  the  club ;  the 
third  man  was  Frank  Woods.  As  I  caught 
sight  of  his  well-set-up  figure,  all  the  hatred 
I  had  for  him  seemed  to  rise  in  my  throat  and 
choke  me.  Try  as  I  would  I  couldn't  separate 
him  from  the  tragedy.  When  the  farmer 
said  the  black  limousine  was  full  of  men,  I 
realized  that  Frank  Woods  couldn't  have  been 
one  of  them,  and  yet,  so  great  was  my 
distrust  of  the  man,  that  I  felt  like  accusing 
him  on  the  spot. 

Larry  Brown  caught  sight  of  me  and 
wrung  my  hand.  "Dammit,  old  man,  I  can't 
tell  you  how  sorry  I  am."    Paisley  patted  me 


88  32    CALIBER 

on  the  back.  "If  there  is  anything  we  can 
do,  Thompson " 

I  shook  my  head  and  tears  came  to  my 
eyes.  They  made  me  realize  poignantly  how 
much  I  had  lost.  Woods  didn't  join  us.  He 
knew  if  he  tried  to  sympathize  with  me,  after 
the  affair  the  other  day,  that  I  would  throttle 
him  for  his  hypocrisy. 

"Was  Jim  killed  outright?"  Brown  asked. 

"Yes !  And  there's  one  chance  in  a  thou- 
sand for  Helen." 

Both  men  started.  "Was  Mrs.  Felderson 
there?  They  telephoned  us  at  the  club  that 
Jim  had  been  killed,  but  we  didn't  know  she 
was  with  him." 

They  glanced  at  each  other  and  then  at 
Woods,  who  was  standing  by  the  side  of  the 
overturned  car. 

"You'd  better  tell  him,  Larry,"  Paisley 
muttered. 

"Doesn't  he  know?"  I  asked. 

"Of  course  not,"  replied  Brown.  "He  was 
out  there  at  the  club  with  us.  I'm  afraid  it 
will  hit  him  awfully  hard." 


ACCIDENT  OR  MURDER  89 

He  stepped  over  to  Woods  and,  taking  him 
by  the  arm,  they  disappeared  into  the  dark- 
ness. We  heard  a  choking  cry,  and  the  next 
moment  Woods  came  running  toward  us.  His 
face  was  distorted  with  horror  and  his  eyes 
were  almost  starting  from  his  head. 

"Thompson,  for  God's  sake,  tell  me  he  lies ! 
Tell  me  he  lies !"  he  shrieked.  "Helen  wasn't 
in  that  car?" 

The  old  suspicions  came  tumbling  back  an 
hundredfold  and  I  turned  cold  all  over. 

"It  is  true,"  I  said,  "Mrs.  Felderson  is  in 
the  hospital  at  the  point  of  death." 

With  a  stifled  groan.  Woods  sank  to  the 
ground  and  buried  his  face  in  his  shaking 
hands. 


CHAPTER  SIX 
A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT 

I  DROVE  home  with  my  thoughts  in  a 
tumult.  The  look  on  Woods'  face  and 
the  vehemence  of  his  words  made  me  sure  he 
was  in  some  way  responsible  for  Jim's  death. 
I  walked  the  floor  for  hours  trying  to  build 
up  my  case  against  him.  He  had  sworn  to 
kill  Jim,  unless  he  let  Helen  go,  and  he  must 
have  known  that  afternoon  that  not  only  was 
Jim  going  to  keep  Helen  from  him,  but  that 
he  had  the  proof  with  which  to  ruin  him 
forever.  He  had  planned  to  have  it  out  with 
Jim  at  the  country-club,  knowing  it  would  be 
a  cold  damp  night  and  that  few  people  would 
be  out  there.  He  had  emphatically  stated 
that  Jim  should  come  alone  and  should  be 
there  promptly  at  half -past  eight.  All  those 
facts  pointed  to  the  man's  guilt  and  I  felt  sure 
that  in  some  way  I  should  be  able  to  unearth 
the  proof. 
I  knew  I  ought  to  sleep,  but  sleep  was  the 
90 


A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT         91 

last  thing  I  could  do.  Twice  I  called  up  the 
hospital  to  inquire  after  Helen,  but  they 
could  tell  me  nothing.  Had  the  operation 
been  successful  ?  Yes,  she  had  come  through 
it.  Would  she  get  well  ?  Ah,  that  they  could 
not  say.  They  would  let  me  know  if  there 
was  any  change.  I  sent  a  telegram  to  Jim's 
uncle  in  the  West,  the  only  relative  Jim  ever 
corresponded  with,  and  told  him  to  notify  any 
others  to  whom  the  news  would  be  of  vital 
interest. 

Toward  five  o'clock,  when  dawn  was  just 
graying  the  windows,  I  threw  myself  on  my 
bed.  I  suddenly  realized  I  was  extremely 
tired,  yet  my  brain  was  buzzing  like  a 
dynamo.  Pictures  and  scenes  from  the  last 
few  days  flashed  through  my  mind :  the  vin- 
dictive look  in  Helen's  eyes  after  the  fight 
with  Woods ;  that  table  being  wheeled  out  of 
Helen's  room  at  the  hospital,  with  the  moan- 
ing white  bundle  on  it;  the  upturned  car 
pricked  out  of  the  darkness  by  the  automobile 
lamps,  and  finally,  Frank  Woods'  face  when 
he  heard  that  Helen  had  been  in  the  car. 


92  32   CALIBER 

With  the  realization  that  I  ought  to  get  up 
and  close  the  window,  where  the  morning 
breeze  was  idly  flapping  the  curtain,  I  fell 
asleep. 

I  awoke  with  a  start,  to  find  the  room 
flooded  with  golden  sunlight.  A  glance  at 
the  clock  on  the  mantel-shelf  showed  that  it 
was  after  nine.  My  body  was  cramped  and 
stiff  and  I  felt  stale  and  musty  from  having 
slept  in  my  clothes.  It  was  only  after  a  cold 
shower  and  a  complete  change  that  I  felt 
refreshed  enough  to  pick  up  the  threads 
where  I  had  dropped  them  the  night  before. 

Again,  like  the  sudden  aching  of  a  tooth, 
came  the  heart-breaking  realization  that  Jim 
was  dead.  With  it  came  also  anxiety  for 
Helen's  condition,  so  I  called  up  the  hospital 
at  once.  They  could  only  say  she  had  not 
recovered  consciousness,  but  seemed  to  be 
resting  comfortably. 

I  went  down  to  the  office  to  tell  the 
stenographers  they  might  have  a  vacation 
until  after  the  funeral,  and  to  lock  up.  The 
first  person  I  found  there  was  Inspector  Rob- 


A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT         93 

inson,  who  was  calmly  reading  over  the 
correspondence  on  Jim's  desk.  With  all  the 
"sang-froid"  in  the  world,  he  met  my  infuri- 
ated gaze. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Thompson.  Thought 
there  might  be  something  here  touching  on 
the  case."  He  waved  a  hand  toward  Jim's 
letter  basket. 

"Have  you  found  the  black  limousine?" 
I  asked. 

"Certainly,  my  dear  man,  certainly !  We've 
not  only  found  the  car,  but  we  found  the 
people  who  were  in  the  car  and  they  know 
nothing  about  the  accident.  My  first  ex- 
planation was  the  right  one,  as  I  knew  it 
would  be.  Felderson  was  driving  recklessly, 
saw  the  bridge,  put  on  the  brakes,  skidded — 
was  killed." 

"But  why  should  he  put  on  his  brakes  at 
the  bridge?"  I  queried. 

"I've  thought  of  that,"  he  smiled.  'Ter- 
fectly  logical.  There's  a  nasty  bump  at  the 
bridge  and  he  naturally  didn't  want  to  jar 
Mrs.  Felderson." 


94  82   CALIBER 

"So  he  turned  into  the  ditch  and  pitched 
her  out  on  her  head  instead,"  I  jeered. 
"That's  all  poppy-cock.  I've  taken  that 
bridge  at  full  speed  a  hundred  times  without 
a  jar.'* 

"It's  immaterial  anyway,"  he  snapped, 
frowning  at  me.  "You  can't  make  any  fool 
mystery  out  of  it.  The  point  is  that  Mr. 
Felderson  put  on  his  brakes  rapidly,  perhaps 
for  a  dog  or  a  rabbit,  and  skidded  into  the 
ditch." 

"It's  not  immaterial !"  I  burst  out  angrily. 
"There  was  a  real  reason  for  his  putting  his 
brakes  on  rapidly.  He  was  afraid  of  hitting 
something,  or  being  hit  himself.  Who  was 
the  driver  of  that  other  car?" 

"The  son  of  one  of  the  biggest  men  in  the 
state,  Karl  Schreiber." 

"Karl  Schreiber?"  I  cried.  "The  son  of  the 
German  Socialist,  who  was  put  in  jail  for 
dodging  the  draft?"  I  grabbed  him  by  the 
arm.  "Quick,  man!  Who  were  the  others 
with  him?" 

Robinson  gazed  at  me  with  a  stupid  frown. 


A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT         95 

"Two  reporters  from  The  Sun,  a  fellow  by 
the  name  of  Pederson,  Otto  Metzger  and  that 
Russian,  Zalnitch,  who  just  got  out  of  pris- 
on." 

"Zalnitch!"  I  yelled  exultantly. 

Zalnitch !  The  man  Jim  had  sent  to  prison 
and  who  had  threatened  revenge.  Metzger, 
who  had  been  his  accomplice  all  along. 
Schreiber,  who  hated  Jim  and  all  the  virile 
Americanism  that  he  stood  for.  Pederson 
and  the  two  reporters  I  didn't  know,  but  they 
were  no  doubt  of  the  same  vile  breed.  A 
fine  gang  of  cutthroats  who  would  have  liked 
nothing  better  than  to  get  rid  of  Jim.  They 
probably  saw  his  big  search-light,  that  makes 
his  car  easily  recognizable,  and  realized  their 
opportunity  had  come.  They  had  driven  to- 
ward him  as  though  to  smash  into  him  and 
made  Jim  take  the  ditch  to  get  out  of  the 
way.  That  explained  the  sudden  jamming 
on  of  his  brakes  that  had  caused  him  to  skid 
and  overturn.  All  these  thoughts  passed 
through  my  mind  as  I  heard  the  names  of 
the  men  in  the  black  limousine. 


96  32   CALIBER 

"Inspector,"  I  said,  "I  am  fully  convinced 
that  the  men  in  the  black  limousine  are  re- 
sponsible for  my  brother-in-law's  accident." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  he  de- 
manded, eying  me  narrowly. 

"Because  all  of  them  had  reason  to  hate 
and  fear  my  brother-in-law.  Zalnitch,  since 
his  release,  has  sworn  he  would  get  even  with 
Mr.  Felderson  for  putting  him  in  prison. 
Metzger  felt  the  same  way.  As  for  Schreiber, 
I'm  sure  if  he  could  have  manipulated  that 
car  so  as  to  cause  an  accident  to  Mr.  Felder- 
son, he  would  have  done  it." 

"You're  crazy,"  Robinson  sneered.  "This 
thing's  gone  to  your  head.  How  could  they 
have  known  it  was  your  brother-in-law's  car?" 

"By  the  big  search-light  in  front.  It's  the 
only  car  in  the  state  with  such  a  search-light. 
Mr.  Felderson's  car  was  so  fast  that  the  po- 
lice sometimes  used  it,  and  he  had  their  per- 
mission to  wear  that  light,  as  you  probably 
know.  Also,  it  may  have  been  dark  enough 
to  use  the  search-light  and  yet  light  enough 
so  that  a  car  could  be  distinguished  at  a 


A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT  97 

hundred  feet.  If  there  was  any  light  at  all, 
that  big  Peckwith-Pierce  car  could  be  recog- 
nized by  any  one."  He  was  impressed.  I 
could  see  it  by  the  thoughtful,  shrewd  look 
that  came  into  his  eyes.  Already,  he  was 
making  arrests  by  the  wholesale,  in  his  mind. 

"But  I  can't  go  pulling  these  men  for  mur- 
der on  such  slight  evidence  as  that,"  he  ex- 
ploded. 

"No  one  wants  you  to,"  I  said  sharply. 
"All  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  help  me  find  out 
whether  those  men  were  present  when  the 
accident  happened." 

The  idea  of  helping  me  didn't  please  him 
at  all.  As  soon  as  I  had  spoken  I  saw  my 
error  in  not  putting  it  the  other  way  around. 

"Now,  Mr.  Thompson,  you  better  keep  out 
of  this,"  he  advised,  getting  to  his  feet.  "I 
know  that  you  are  anxious  to  find  out  if  these 
men  had  anything  to  do  with  Mr.  Felder- 
son's  death,  but  the  case  is  in  good  hands. 
We  professionals  can  do  a  lot  better,  when 
there's  no  amateurs  messing  about.  You 
leave  it  to  me !" 


98  82   CALIBER 

"Just  as  you  say,"  I  acquiesced.  "Get 
busy,  though,  and  if  you  find  out  anything, 
let  me  know  !'* 

Robinson  stood  a  minute,  turning  his  derby 
hat  in  his  hands.    I  knew  what  he  was  after. 

"By  the  way,"  I  added.  "I'll  pay  all  ex- 
penses." 

His  face  brightened  at  once.  "Well,  now, 
that's  good  of  you,  Mr.  Thompson.  I  wasn't 
going  to  suggest  anything  like  that,  but  it'll 
help  a  lot." 

I  handed  over  several  bills,  which  he  pock- 
eted with  satisfaction. 

"Don't  you  worry  a  minute,  Mr.  Thompson. 
We'll  get  those  birds  yet.  I  was  pretty  sure 
they  had  something  to  do  with  it,  all  the 
time.  You've  got  the  best  man  in  the  de- 
partment on  the  job." 

He  put  on  his  derby  hat  with  a  flourish 
and  trotted  out  the  door.  I  recalled  that  I 
had  told  Mary  I  would  see  her,  so  I  dismissed 
the  stenographers  and  locked  up  the  office. 
It  was  a  perfect  morning,  with  all  the  warm 
spicy  perfumes  of  Indian  summer.     Over- 


A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT         99 

head,  a  blue  sky  was  filled  with  tumbled 
clouds  of  snowy  whiteness.  The  rain  of  the 
night  before  was  still  on  the  grass  and  the 
trees,  giving  a  dewy  fragrance  to  the  air  that 
was  invigorating. 

Now  that  I  had  found  a  possible  solution 
to  the  tragedy,  I  was  filled  with  enthusiasm. 
I  felt  that  if  I  could  bring  Jim's  murderers 
to  trial,  I  would  conduct  such  a  case  for  the 
prosecution  as  would  send  them  up  for  life. 
They  had  succeeded  in  carrying  out  their 
threats,  but  I  would  make  them  pay  for  it. 

I  stopped  in  front  of  Mary's  house  and 
honked  the  horn.  She  opened  the  door  and 
came  quickly  to  the  car.  The  tragic  news  of 
the  night  before  had  taken  the  laughter  out 
of  her  eyes  and  the  buoyancy  from  her  step. 

"I  could  cry  my  eyes  out,  Bupps,"  she  said 
as  she  climbed  into  the  car. 

"Don't  do  it,  or  I'll  start,  too,"  I  responded, 
a  lump  coming  in  my  throat. 

"How  did  it  happen?"  she  asked,  as  we 
drove  away.  "The  papers  gave  a  long  ac- 
count, but  said  it  was  an  accident." 


100  32    CALIBER 

"Zalnitch  did  it,  Mary.  At  least,  I'm  almost 
sure  it  was  he."  I  told  her  what  I  had 
learned  during  the  morning,  and  as  I  talked, 
I  finally  touched  on  Frank  Woods'  strange 
words  of  the  night  before. 

"You  don't  think  he  had  anything  to  do 
with  it,  do  you,  Bupps?" 

"No,"  I  said.  "I  did  think  so,  but  I  have 
changed  my  mind  since  this  morning.  I 
suppose  it  was  just  his  grief  that  made  him 
act  so  queerly." 

"He  does  love  Helen,  Bupps,"  Mary  mur- 
mured. "Helen  got  quite  confidential  while 
she  was  staying  with  me,  and  the  things  she 
told  me  about  Woods  made  me  see  he  was 
really  in  love  with  her." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  he  does  love  her,"  I  re- 
sponded, "but  he  had  no  right  to  take  her 
away  from  Jim." 

"It's  the  man  who  takes  a  woman,  whether 
he  has  the  right  or  not,  that  wins,"  responded 
Mary  seriously. 

I  looked  at  her  and  wondered  whether  she 
was  growing  the  least  bit  personal.    She  was 


A  CLUE  AND  A  VERDICT       101 

looking  straight  ahead,  with  an  unsmiling 
gaze.  As  I  glanced  at  her,  there  beside  me, 
with  the  breeze  blowing  wisps  of  golden  hair 
around  her  temples,  I  got  panic-stricken. 

"Mary — "  I  began. 

"Watch  where  you  are  going,  Bupps !" 

I  fastened  my  eyes  on  the  street  ahead, 
but  only  for  an  instant.  With  Jim  gone,  I 
was  going  to  be  fearfully  lonesome.  I  glanced 
at  her  again. 

"Mary,  I  know  this  isn't  the  right  time  or 
place,  but — " 

"Let's  go  to  the  hospital  and  find  out  about 
Helen,"  she  interposed  quickly.  She  knew 
we  were  going  there  all  the  time.  The  men- 
tion of  Helen  brought  me  back  to  earth  with 
a  snap,  and  made  me  realize  I  had  no  business 
talking  about  love  at  such  a  time.  Yet  never 
in  my  life  did  I  feel  more  like  telling  Mary 
how  much  I  wanted  her. 

We  had  no  sooner  entered  the  cool  hall  of 
St.  Mary's  than  the  little  interne  with  glasses, 
whom  I  had  seen  the  night  before,  came  hur- 
rying up  to  me. 


102  82    CALIBER 

"Mr.  Thompson,  we  have  been  telephoning 
every  place  for  you." 

My  heart  jumped  to  my  throat.  "Is  Mrs. 
Felderson— ?" 

"No,"  he  responded,  "Mrs.  Felderson  is  still 
unconscious.  It  is  Mr.  Felderson.  The  coro- 
ner has  made  an  important  discovery." 

I  waved  for  Mary  to  stay  where  she  was 
and  hurried  down-stairs,  where  Jim's  body 
lay.  It  had  not  been  moved  before  the  coro- 
ner's inquest.  The  room  was  dark  and  sev- 
eral people  were  gathered  around  the  inquest 
table.  All  eyes  were  turned  on  me  as  I  en- 
tered the  room.  A  portly  man  detached  him- 
self from  the  group  and  came  toward  me. 

"Mr.  Thompson?" 

"Yes." 

"I  am  the  coroner.  In  making  my  inquest, 
I  find  that  death  was  not  due  to  the  automo- 
bile smash-up.  Mr.  Felderson  was  shot 
through  the  head,  from  behind.  We  have 
rendered  a  verdict  of  murder," 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 

I  TURN  DETECTIVE 

MURDERED !  For  a  moment  I  was  stu- 
pefied by  the  doctor's  revelation,  and 
then,  as  he  went  on  to  describe  the  course  of 
the  bullet,  and  certain  technical  aspects  of  the 
case,  a  sudden  rush  of  thankfulness  came 
over  me.  Let  me  explain !  The  coroner  had 
given  a  verdict  of  murder  by  person  or  per- 
sons unknown.  From  the  first  moment  I 
heard  of  the  accident  I  was  certain  there  was 
something  sinister  about  it,  but  had  little  on 
which  to  base  my  belief.  The  coroner's  ver- 
dict substantiated  my  suspicions  and  gave  me 
a  chance  to  work  in  the  open;  to  bring  into 
court,  if  possible,  the  people  I  suspected. 

Murder  by  person  or  persons  unknown? 
I  knew  the  persons:  Zalnitch,  Metzger, 
Schreiber.  They  must  have  recognized  the 
car  as  it  came  toward  them  and  taken  a  shot 
as  they  went  by.  My  thoughts  were  recalled 
from  their  wanderings  by  an  unexpected  sen- 
X03 


104  32    CALIBER 

tence  of  the  coroner's.  I  had  been  following 
him  vaguely,  but  now  my  attention  was  riv- 
eted. 

"One  could  not  be  sure,  because  of  the 
varied  course  that  bullets  take  through  the 
body,  but  the  shot  seems  to  have  been  fired 
from  above  and  behind.  Unless  it  were  other- 
wise proved,  I'd  strongly  suspect  that  the 
murderer  had  fired  the  shot  from  the  back 
seat  of  the  car." 

"Of  course  that  is  impossible,"  I  said,  "be- 
cause in  that  case  the  murderer  would  have 
been  in  the  accident." 

"I  had  the  same  idea,"  he  said  slowly,  giv- 
ing me  a  searching  look. 

Helen! 

I  felt  suddenly  sick  and  faint.  I  wanted 
air,  sunlight;  to  get  away  from  that  dark- 
ened room  and  those  piercing  eyes  that 
seemed  to  read  my  thoughts.  I  thanked  him 
for  letting  me  know  what  he  had  discovered, 
and  hurriedly  excused  myself. 

Helen!  The  blood  pounded  through  my 
temples. 


I  TURN  DETECTIVE  105 

God!    No! 

Wilful,  spoiled  woman,  if  you  will,  ready 
to  leave  her  husband  without  thought  of  the 
consequences,  to  go  with  another  man;  but 
his  premeditated  murderer?  A  thousand 
times,  no ! 

I  felt  that  with  the  unworthy  suspicion  in 
my  mind,  I  could  not  face  Mary,  and  I  waited 
a  moment  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  before 
going  up  to  meet  her.  There  were  two  ques- 
tions that  had  to  be  answered.  Was  Helen 
in  the  back  seat  when  the  car  left  Mary's 
the  evening  before ;  and  had  Jim  told  Helen 
about  the  proofs  he  had  of  Woods*  irregu- 
larities? Mary  was  probably  there  when 
Helen  and  Jim  left,  and  could  answer  both 
questions. 

I  wiped  the  perspiration  from  my  forehead 
and  assuming  as  calm  an  air  as  possible, 
went  up-stairs.  Mary  was  chatting  with  the 
little  interne,  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  my  face, 
she  hurried  toward  me. 

"You  look  as  though  you'd  seen  a  ghost. 
What  was  it,  Bupps?" 


106  32    CALIBER 

"Not  here !"  I  cautioned.  "Wait  until  we 
get  outside!" 

We  walked  down  the  broad  sunlit  steps 
and  climbed  into  the  car.  I  felt  like  a  traitor 
to  let  Mary  even  think  that  I  suspected 
Helen,  but  my  questions  had  to  be  answered. 

"Will  you  have  luncheon  with  me,  Mary?'* 

"Certainly,"  she  answered.  "Let's  go  to 
Luigi's.    We  can  talk  quietly  there." 

I  headed  for  down-town  and  kept  my  eyes 
on  the  road,  dreading  to  put  my  questions 
into  words. 

"What  was  it,  Bupps?"    Mary  asked. 

I  decided  to  ask  what  I  had  to  ask  before 
telling  her  the  coroner's  verdict. 

"Did  you  see  Helen  leave  the  house  with 
Jim  yesterday?" 

"Yes.  I  was  looking  out  the  window  when 
they  started.    Why?" 

I  could  hardly  force  myself  to  go  on. 

"Was  Helen — did  Helen  get  into  the  front 
seat  with  Jim?"  I  faltered. 

"No.  She  climbed  into  the  back,"  Mary 
replied.     "They  had  some  sort  of  an  argu- 


I  TURN  DETECTIVE  107 

ment  before  they  left.  I  knew  Jim  was  ex- 
cited and  that  Helen  was  angry.  Of  course 
I  didn't  hear  all  that  passed  between  them, 
I  tried  not  to  hear  any,  but  they  talked  very 
loud  and  were  right  in  the  next  room." 

"What  did  you  hear?"  I  asked,  my  heart 
sinking. 

"Once  Jim  laughed,  a  hard  sort  of  laugh, 
and  I  heard  Helen  say,  'You  lie!  You  know 
you  are  lying!  He  will  disprove  everything 
you  say!*  Another  time  I  heard  Helen  ex- 
claim, *Give  me  that  pistol!  You  shan't 
threaten  him  while  I'm  there!'  I  knew,  of 
course,  they  were  speaking  of  Frank  Woods, 
but  I  didn't  know  what  it  was  all  about.  But 
why  do  you  ask  all  this,  Bupps?'* 

"Mary,"  I  said,  and  I  couldn't  look  at  her, 
"the  coroner  has  given  a  verdict  of  murder." 

"Murder?"  Mary  gasped.     I  nodded. 

"Jim  was  shot  from  behind,  while  he  was 
driving  Helen  out  to  the  country-club  to  meet 
Woods,  and  Helen  was  in  the  back  seat." 

"She  didn't  do  it!"  Mary  burst  out.  "She 
couldn't  have  done  it." 


108  32    CALIBER 

"Of  course  she  didn't  do  it!"  I  exploded. 
We  were  glaring  at  each  other  as  though 
each  was  defending  Helen  from  the  other's 
accusation.  "We  know  she  didn't  do  it,  but 
there  are  many  who  won't  take  our  word  for 
it.  I  could  see  by  the  way  the  coroner  looked 
at  me  this  morning  that  he  is  ready  to  accuse 
her  of  murdering  Jim,  and  it's  up  to  us  to 
save  her,  by  finding  out  who  really  is  guilty." 

We  drove  up  in  front  of  Luigi's,  and  I  was 
able  to  get  a  small  table,  in  the  corner  by 
ourselves.  Although  no  one  could  have  over- 
heard us,  I  sat  as  near  Mary  as  I  could  and 
we  talked  with  our  heads  close  together. 

Mrs.  Webster  Pratt  came  in  the  door  just 
then,  with  a  luncheon  party,  and,  noticing 
how  we  were  engrossed,  came  bouncing  over 
to  the  table  at  once. 

"Poor  Mr.  Thompson,  my  heart  bleeds  for 
you — simply  bleeds  for  you." 

I  got  to  my  feet  and  permitted  her  to 
squeeze  my  hand.  She  squeezes  your  hand 
or  pats  you  at  the  least  opportunity,  and  this 
one  was  unequaled. 


I  TURN  DETECTIVE  109 

"Poor,  dear  Mr.  Felderson.  It  is  such  a 
loss.  I  was  shocked  to  death  when  I  heard 
it.  And  Mrs.  Felderson,  the  poor  child,  is  she 
going  to — ah — ^t-t-t.  I  was  afraid  so  when  I 
read  it  in  the  paper.  I'm  surprised  to  find 
you  here.     How  is  your  poor  dear  mother?" 

I  knew  that  the  woman  would  gossip  all 
over  the  place  about  my  heartlessness,  unless 
I  explained  my  presence  in  a  public  cafe  so 
soon  after  Jim's  death  and  my  sister's  injury. 

"My  mother  doesn't  know  about  it  yet,"  I 
said  quietly.  "I  didn't  think  her  strong 
enough  to  stand  the  shock.  I  shouldn't  have 
come  here,  but  I  had  a  very  important  mat- 
ter to  talk  over  with  Miss  Pendleton." 

"I  could  see  that  from  the  way  you  were 
sitting,"  she  giggled.  "I'm  afraid  that  you're 
going  to  give  Eastbrook  something  to  talk 
about  as  soon  as  this  distressing  thing  is 
over."  She  patted  my  arm,  beamed  at  Mary 
and  swished  over  to  her  party. 

"We  shouldn't  have  come  here,  Mary,"  I 
said  with  a  sour  grimace. 

"I  forgot  that  old  cat  sometimes  comes 


110  32    CALIBER 

here.  She'll  spread  it  all  over  town  that  you 
were  down  here  making  love  to  me  before 
Jim  was  decently  buried.  She'll  probably  say 
we're  engaged." 

"Well,  I  wish  we  were."  I  know  I  must 
have  shown  my  longing  in  my  eyes. 

"Don't,  please,  Warren !"  Mary  whispered, 
putting  her  hand  on  my  arm.  "We've  got 
too  much  to  do.  That  Pratt  woman  drove 
everything  out  of  my  mind  for  a  moment.  I 
wish  she  hadn't  seen  us  here." 

I  didn't  feel  as  though  I  could  eat  a  thing 

* 

and  neither  did  Mary,  so  I  told  the  waiter 
to  bring  us  a  light  salad,  and  sent  him  away. 

"Mary,"  I  said,  after  he  had  gone,  "we 
know  Helen  didn't  do  this  thing,  but  if  you 
are  called  by  the  grand  jury  to  tell  what  you 
just  told  me,  they  will  bring  an  indictment 
against  her  in  a  minute." 

"They  couldn't!"  Mary  expostulated. 
"They  couldn't  believe  such  a  thing." 

"Don't  you  think  Mrs.  Webster  Pratt  would 
believe  it,  if  she  knew  everything  that  we 
know?"  I  argued.      "She'd  believe  it  with 


I  TURN  DETECTIVE  111 

only  half  as  much  proof,  and  she  has  just 
about  the  mental  equipment  of  the  average 
juryman.  There'll  be  about  four  Mrs. 
Webster  Pratts  on  that  jury." 

"What  can  we  do,  Bupps?"  Mary  begged 
with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you've  got  to  see  Helen  as 
soon  as  they  will  let  you  and  as  often  as 
they'll  let  you,  so  that  the  first  time  she 
speaks,  you'll  be  there  to  hear  what  she  says." 

"But  suppose  she  dies,  Bupps  ?" 

"Even  while  she  is  unconscious,"  I  went 
on,  disregarding  her  query,  "she  may  say 
something  that  will  give  us  a  clue.  I'm 
going  out  to  the  bridge  right  after  lunch." 

"What  for?"  Mary  asked. 

"To  see  if  I  can  find  Jim's  revolver.  If  it 
had  been  found  on  Helen,  the  coroner  would 
have  told  me  this  morning,  I  think.  Of 
course,  they  may  not  have  taken  it  at  all.  In 
that  case  it  will  still  be  at  your  house.  If 
Helen  took  it  with  her,  it  must  have  fallen 
out  when  the  car  turned  over,  and  if  it  did, 
I  must  get  it  before  anybody  else  does." 


112  32    CALIBER 

The  waiter  interrupted  here  with  the 
salad.  Mary  dabbled  with  hers  a  bit  and 
then  said: 

"Bupps,  hadn't  I  better  get  out  of  town?" 

"No,"  I  replied.  "They'd  be  sure  to  find 
you,  and  when  you  gave  your  testimony,  it 
would  hurt  Helen  just  that  much  more." 

"But  I  can't  stand  up  before  them  and  tell 
what  I  heard.  I'll  lie  first."  Her  lovely 
little  face  clouded  up  as  though  she  were 
going  to  cry. 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind !"  I  insisted. 
"We  know  Helen  didn't  do  it.     Don't  we?" 

"Ye-es."     Her  tone  was  not  convincing. 

"Well,  then,  whatever  we  say  can't  hurt 
her.  And  we're  bound  to  find  out  who  the 
guilty  persons  are." 

"But,  Bupps,  who  could  it  have  been?"  she 
asked  anxiously. 

"I  still  think  it  was  Zalnitch  and  the  men 
who  were  with  him,  but  it  might  have  been 
Woods.  I'm  going  to  find  out  everything  he 
did  last  night.  It  may  throw  some  light  on 
the  case.     After  all,  he  is  the  one  who  had 


I  TURN  DETECTIVE  113 

the  most  to  gain  by  Jim's  death,  and  his 
words  of  last  night  were  mighty  queer." 

I  paid  the  waiter  and  we  left  the  cafe.  On 
the  way  to  Mary's  I  stopped  at  the  under- 
taker's and  made  arrangements  for  Jim's 
burial.  The  man  in  charge  was  the  saddest 
looking  person  I  have  ever  seen.  He  had  a 
woebegone  look  about  him  that  was  infec- 
tious— made  you  want  to  weep  for  him  or 
with  him.  He  discussed  the  funeral  arrange- 
ments in  a  hushed  voice  and  finished  by  whis- 
pering, "I  sincerely  hope  what  the  papers  are 
hinting  is  not  so." 

"What's  that?"  I  asked. 
"The  noon  edition  of  The  Sun  says,  The 
finger  of  suspicion  points  very  strongly  to 
Mrs.  Felderson.' " 

I  hurried  out  to  the  car  and  jumped  in, 
"Mary,  we've  got  to  work  fast." 
"Is  Helen  suspected?"  she  asked. 
"Yes.     The  Sun  is  more  than  hinting." 
The  news  seemed  to  bring  out  the  fight  in 
Mary. 

"Well,  we'll  prove  her  innocent." 


114  32    CALIBER 

When  we  reached  the  Pendletons'  we 
hurried  into  the  house  and  went  at  once  to 
the  room  where  Jim  and  Helen  had  their 
argument.    The  revolver  was  not  there. 


CHAPTER  EiGM 

IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN 

I  DROVE  Mary  to  the  hospital  with  my 
spirits  at  lowest  ebb.  If  The  Sun  were 
going  to  try  to  convict  Helen  of  the  murder, 
I  realized  that  we  had  a  hard  fight  ahead  of 
us,  for  that  yellow  sheet  was  most  zealous  in 
hounding  down  any  one  who  happened  to  be 
socially  prominent,  and  in  demanding  pun- 
ishment. The  blacker  the  scandal,  the 
deeper  they  dug,  and  the  more  details  they 
gave  to  their  gluttonous,  filth-loving  public. 
They  would  be  particularly  eager  here,  for 
they  had  no  love  for  Jim,  due  to  the  stand  he 
took  against  them  during  the  war. 

I  knew  the  reporters  would  be  hot  on  my 
trail  and  that  sooner  or  later  they  would 
interview  Mary.  So  I  determined  that  Mary 
should  spend  as  much  time  as  possible  at  the 
hospital,  feeling  sure  the  reporters  would 
not  be  allowed  in  the  room  where  Helen  lay, 
battered  and  unconscious.  As  for  me,  I 
115 


116  32   CALIBER 

wanted  to  get  to  the  bridge  on  the  Blandes- 
ville  Road  as  quickly  as  possible  and  from 
there  to  the  country-club  to  inquire  what 
Woods  had  done  the  night  before.  I  made 
up  my  mind  I'd  lead  the  reporters  a  merry 
old  chase  before  they  ran  me  to  earth,  and 
when  they  did,  I'd  tell  them  nothing.  I  also 
wanted  to  get  in  touch  with  Robinson  as  soon 
as  I  could,  to  find  out  whether  he  had  discov- 
ered anything  new  of  Zalnitch  and  his 
confederates — ^but  that  could  wait  until 
evening. 

At  the  hospital  they  were  at  first  opposed 
to  having  any  one  in  the  room  with  Helen, 
who  still  lay  in  a  coma,  but  with  the  help  of 
one  of  the  nurses  in  charge,  it  was  at  last 
arranged. 

As  I  drove  over  the  road  to  the  club,  the 
bleak  barrenness  of  the  country  struck  me 
anew.  Twenty-four  hours  before  Jim  had 
been  alive.  Twenty-four  hours  before  we 
had  been  in  our  ofl!ice  discussing  the  proof  of 
Woods'  guilt,  and  Woods  had  telephoned  to 
Jim,  asking  him  to  come  to  the  country-club 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    117 

alone.  My  suspicions  of  the  man  stirred 
afresh,  so  that  when  I  came  to  the  bridge  and 
found  no  one  there,  I  decided  to  leave  my 
search  for  the  revolver  until  later  and  go 
straight  on  to  the  club. 

It  was  still  early  for  the  golfers  and  the 
bridge  players  and  there  were  only  a  few 
people  there.  These,  of  course,  came  up 
to  me  and  pressed  my  hand  with  genuine 
sympathy.  I  realized  how  many,  many 
friends  Jim  had  and  what  a  loss  his  death 
was  to  them  all. 

As  soon  as  I  could  disengage  myself  I 
hunted  up  Jackson,  the  negro  head-waiter 
and  general  house-man,  who  knows  every- 
thing that  happens  at  the  club.  He  had  just 
finished  his  dinner  and  I  drew  him  into  the 
cloak-room  so  that  our  talk  might  be  unin- 
terrupted. I  took  out  a  five  dollar  bill  and 
held  it  up  before  his  expectant  eyes. 

"Do  you  see  that,  Jackson?"  I  question^. 

"Yas,  indeed  Ah  sees  it,  suh !  Ah  may  be 
gittin'  old  but  Ah  ain't  blind  yit.  Ah'll  git 
you  whut  you  wants,  instan'ly." 


118      '  32   CALIBER 

He  started  to  leave,  but  I  grabbed  him. 

"That's  not  what  I  want,  Jackson,"  I 
laughed.  Since  the  prohibition  law  went 
into  effect,  it  has  been  only  through  some 
such  ritual  that  "wets"  can  get  theirs  at  the 
club.  "All  I  want  is  to  ask  you  a  few  ques- 
tions." 

"Fo*  dat  money?"    His  teeth  gleamed. 

I  nodded. 

"Mr.  Woods  was  here  last  night?"  I  asked, 
abruptly. 

"Yas,  suh." 

"What  time  did  he  come  in  ?" 

"Ah  cain't  raghtly  say,  Mist*  Thompsin, 
but  he  had  dinnah  out  heah  'bout  seben- 
thuty,"  he  answered. 

"Did  he  leave  the  club  after  that?" 

"Not  'til  de  telephone  call  come  whut  says 
Mist'  Feldahson  ben  killt.  Den  he  lef  wif 
Mist'  Brown  an'  Mist'  Paisley." 

"You're  sure  he  was  here  all  that  time?" 
I  asked. 

"No,  sah,  I  ain't  suah,  but  Ah  seen  him  ev'y 
liow  an'  d^n  thu  de  ev'nin'," 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    119 

"Was  he  here  at  quarter  past  eight?"  I 
questioned. 

"He  was  heah  at  twentj-'-fahv  minutes  past 
eight,  Ah  knows,  cause  Ah  done  brought  him 
a  drink." 

"You're  sure  of  that?" 

"Yas,  suh !  Positive !"  the  negro  answered. 
"  'Cause  Ah  looked  at  de  clock  raght  den  an* 
der." 

As  near  as  I  could  figure,  the  accident  had 
happened  about  eight-ten  or  eight-fifteen  and 
the  bridge  was  six  miles  away  from  the  club. 
Woods  couldn't  have  been  at  the  bridge  at  the 
time  of  the  tragedy  and  got  back  to  the 
club  by  eighty  twenty-five.  Still,  he  might 
have  had  an  accomplice. 

"Thank  you,  Jackson,"  I  said,  giving  him 
the  money.  "Just  forget  that  I  asked  you 
any  questions!" 

The  darky  chuckled.  "Ah  done  fohgot  'em 
befoh  you  evah  asted  'em,  suh.  Thank  you, 
suh!" 

As  I  passed  into  the  big,  central  living-i 
room,  Paisley  came  in. 


120  82   CALIBER 

"What  was  this  I  saw  in  The  Sun?"  he 
asked. 

"The  sort  of  rot  that  nasty  sheet  always 
prints,"  I  said. 

"Nothing  to  it  of  course.  I  thought  not. 
You  don't  feel  like  golfing?" 

I  shook  my  head.  "Not  to-day,  old  chap. 
By  the  way,  were  you  with  Frank  Woods 
when  the  news  of  Jim's  death  reached  the 
club?" 

"Yes— why?"  he  asked. 

'Tou  won't  think  it  too  strange  if  I  ask 
you  how  he  appeared  to  take  it  ?"  I  said,  try- 
ing to  make  my  remark  seem  as  casual  as 
possible.  Seeing  the  puzzled  expression  on 
his  face,  I  added:  "I  know  it  is  a  peculiar 
thing  to  ask,  but  please  don't  think  any  more 
about  it  than  you  can  help,  and  just  answer." 

"Why — "  Paisley  began,  a  little  flustered, 
"why  he  took  it  just  the  way  the  rest  of  us 
took  it,  I  suppose.  I  don't  remember  ex- 
actly." 

"Did  he  seem  surprised?"  I  questioned. 

"Of  course,"  Paisley  answered. 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    121 

"He  didn't  seem  relieved?" 

"Say,  what  the  devil  are  you  driving  at, 
Thompson?"  Paisley  burst  out. 

I  saw  I  could  get  nothing  from  him  so  I 
left  him  looking  after  me  with  a  perplexed 
and  somewhat  indignant  gaze.  As  a  detective 
it  seemed  I  might  make  a  good  plumber.  I 
knew  very  well  he  would  not  repeat  my  ques- 
tions, but  it  would  be  just  like  good  old 
Paisley  to  woi^y  himself  to  death  trying  to 
solve  them. 

I  drove  back  to  the  bridge,  determined  to 
find  the  revolver,  if  possible,  and  then  hunt 
up  Inspector  Robinson  to  learn  what  he  had 
to  report.  Apparently,  my  suspicions  of 
Frank  Woods  were  groundless.  He  had  had 
dinner  at  the  club  and  then  waited  around 
for  Jim  to  keep  his  appointment.  He  had 
been  seen  by  Jackson  at  eight  twenty-five; 
Jackson  was  positive  of  that  fact.  Ten  or 
fifteen  minutes  at  the  most  in  which  to  go 
six  miles  to  the  bridge  and  back  to  the  club, 
put  up  his  car  and  ask  Jackson  for  a  drink. 
The  thing  couldn't  be  done.    He  had  heard 


122  32   CALIBER 

of  Jim's  death  with  surprise  and  had  heard 
of  Helen's  injury  with  the  greatest  horror. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  doubt  of  one  thing: 
no  matter  how  much  he  wished  for  Jim's 
death,  no  matter  how  much  he  benefited  by 
the  murder,  Frank  Woods,  himself,  didn't  do 
the  killing. 

An  automobile  was  standing  at  the  bridge 
when  I  got  there  and  I  cursed  the  whim  that 
had  sent  me  to  the  club  on  a  false  scent  and 
kept  me  from  having  an  uninterrupted 
search  for  the  weapon.  When  I  saw,  how- 
ever, that  the  driver  of  the  automobile  was 
Inspector  Robinson,  I  was  greatly  relieved, 
for  this  would  not  only  give  me  a  chance  to 
learn  what  he  had  discovered  concerning  the 
men  in  the  black  limousine,  but  would  not 
interfere  with  the  search  for  Jim's  gun.  Rob- 
inson had  his  coat  off  and  his  sleeves  rolled 
up  and  was  fishing  around  the  edge  of  the 
little  creek  with  his  hands.  So  engrossed 
was  he  in  his  task  that  I  was  almost  upon 
him  before  he  looked  up. 

"Good  afternoon.  Inspector,"  I  addressed 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    123 

him.  "What  are  you  doing,  digging  for  gold 
or  making  mud  pies  ?" 

"I'm  gettin*  bait  to  catch  a  sucker,"  he 
snarled.  "You  must  have  thought  you  had 
one  this  morning." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  asked. 

"All  that  bunk  you  handed  me  about 
Schreiber  and  the  men  in  the  black  limousine. 
That  was  a  fine  stall  you  pulled.  I  might 
have  known  you  was  tryin'  to  cover  up  some- 
body's tracks." 

He  dried  his  hands  on  a  rather  flamboyant, 
yellow  handkerchief. 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  you  are  talk- 
ing about,"  I  replied  coldly. 

"Oh,  you  haven't,  haven't  you?"  the  little 
man  burst  out  malignantly.  "You're  inno- 
cent, you  are !  Too  damned  innocent !  I  sup- 
pose you  didn't  know  that  your  brother-in- 
law  was  shot  in  the  back  of  the  head  and  that 
your  sister  was  the  only  one  that  was  with 
him  when  it  was  done.  I  suppose  that's 
news — eh?" 

My  heart  stood  still  as  I  heard  his  words. 


124  82   CALIBER 

So  he  was  after  the  proof  that  Helen  did  it. 
He  had  read  the  insinuations  in  The  Sun 
and  had  abandoned  his  work  against  Schrei- 
ber  and  Zalnitch  for  the  fresher  trail. 

"I  found  out  this  morning  that  my  brother- 
in-law  was  shot,  but  that  only  makes  the 
case  look  the  blacker  for  those  who  openly 
threatened  his  life." 

"Among  whom  was  your  beautiful  sister," 
the  detective  retorted  acidly. 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  I  demanded. 

"From  her  maid  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
servants  in  the  house.  I  found  that  out  when 
I  went  up  to  take  another  squint  at  the  auto- 
mobile. You  thought  you  were  pretty  smart 
sendin*  me  on  a  wild-goose  chase  after  a 
couple  of  cracked  Socialists,  when  all  the 
time  you  knew  it  was  your  own  sister  done 
the  thing.  Tried  to  keep  me  off  the  track 
by  slippin*  me  a  little  dough.  Well,  it  didn't 
work,  see?  There's  your  dough  back."  He 
threw  a  crumpled  wad  of  bills  on  the  ground 
at  my  feet.  "No  one  saw  you  give  it  to  me, 
but  I  ain't  takin*  any  chances,  you  may  have 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    125 

marked  those  bills.  From  now  on  I  work 
alone  without  any  theories  from  you." 

"Look  here.  Inspector!"  I  demanded,  "I 
was  in  earnest  when  I  told  you  I  wanted  you 
to  find  out  all  you  could  about  the  men  in  the 
black  limousine.  I'm  sure  they  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  Mr.  Felderson's  death.  I 
didn't  try  to  bribe  you,  nor  throw  you  off  the 
right  track.  Even  though  my  sister  did  have 
a  little  unpleasantness  with  her  husband,  it 
was  no  serious  difference." 

I  determined  to  find  out  just  how  much 
Robinson  knew. 

"She  was  utterly  incapable  of  doing  an  act 
like  this.  What  possible  motive  could  she 
have?" 

I  could  see  that  Robinson  was  rather  im- 
patiently waiting  for  me  to  go  before  contin- 
uing his  search. 

"Well,  I  ain't  found  out  her  motive  yet. 
That  can  wait.  It  might  have  been  money 
or  jealousy." 

"Money?"  I  scoffed.  "My  sister  had 
plenty ;  more  than  she  could  use.    And  as  for 


126  82   CALIBER 

her  being  jealous  of  her  husband,  that  is  even 
more  ridiculous." 

The  little  man  eyed  me  angrily.  "I  said 
that  the  motive  could  wait.  There's  no 
tellin'  what  a  society  woman  will  do.  She 
may  have  been  crazy  for  all  I  know.  But  / 
ain't,  and  all  your  arguin*  is  just  so  much 
time  wasted.  You  think  those  guys  in  the 
automobile  done  it.  I  don't.  I  think  your 
sister  done  it.  You  don't.  All  right,  then, 
you  take  your  road  and  I'll  take  mine,  and 
we'll  see  who  comes  out  ahead." 

He  turned  and  started  back  to  where  he 
had  been  hunting  when  I  came  up. 

"May  I  ask  what  you  expect  to  find  here?" 
I  queried,  walking  after  him. 

"Sure  you  can  ask,"  he  replied.  As  he 
found  me  following,  he  turned  and  snapped: 
"Say,  what  the  hell  are  you  hangin'  around 
here  for,  anyway?" 

"I  merely  wanted  to  ask  what  you  had  dis- 
covered about  the  men  in  the  black  limousine. 
That's  why  I  stopped." 

"Well,   you've  found   out,   haven't  you? 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    127 

NothirC.  All  right  then,  you  go  on  into  the 
city  and  see  if  you  can  find  out  anything 
more !" 

I  walked  on  down  the  sloping  bank,  search- 
ing the  ground  to  see  if  I  could  find  the  gun 
that  might  reveal  so  much.  I  could  feel  the 
eyes  of  the  inspector  boring  into  my  back. 

"What  are  you  looking  for?"  he  demanded. 

"A  cuff-link,"  I  answered  easily.  "I  think 
I  lost  one  here  last  night.  You  didn't  happen 
to  find  it,  did  you  ?" 

"A  cuff-link?  Humph!"  he  grunted. 
"No,  I  haven't  found  it,  but  I  wouldn't  be 
surprised  if  I  was  lookin'  for  that  same 
cuff-link." 

All  this  time  I  was  searching  the  bank  with 
my  eyes.  A  scrubby,  little  bush  overhung 
the  creek  and  I  kicked  at  it  with  my  foot. 
There  was  a  "plopp"  as  though  something 
heavy  had  dropped  into  the  water.  Instinc- 
tively I  knew  it  was  the  object  for  which  we 
jwere  both  searching,  and  I  turned  to  find  the 
inspector  eying  me  quizzically. 

"What  was  that  noise?" 


128  32    CALIBER 

"What  noise?"  I  asked. 

"Sounded  as  though  that  precious  cuff-link 
of  yours  had  dropped  into  the  water."  He 
started  for  me,  and  as  he  did  so,  I  bent  down 
quickly  and  plunged  my  arm  into  the  water. 
My  fingers  closed  on  the  revolver  just  as  he 
came  bounding  toward  me.  With  a  quick 
shove  I  pushed  it  far  into  the  soft  clay  of  the 
bank,  and,  grabbing  a  rock  off  the  bottom  of 
the  creek,  withdrew  my  arm  from  the  water 
and  slipped  the  rock  into  my  pocket.  The 
red-faced  little  detective  was  peering  over 
my  shoulder  as  I  turned.  Rarely  have  I  seen 
a  man  so  angry. 

"Give  me  what  you  pulled  out  of  that 
creek !"  he  almost  screamed. 

"What  for,  Inspector?"  I  asked  quietly. 

"Never  mind  what  for.  You  give  me  what 
you  found  in  that  creek,  or  I'll — "  he  grabbed 
me  by  the  shoulder. 

"All  right,"  I  said;  "all  right.  Inspector, 
don't  get  so  excited  over  nothing.  It's  yours." 
I  pulled  the  muddy  rock  from  my  coat  pocket 
and  gravely  handed  it  to  him.     "It  was  only 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    129 

an  ordinary,  every-day  rock.  I  didn't  know 
you  were  a  geologist." 

He  pounced  on  me  and  ran  his  fingers  over 
my  person.    Red-faced,  he  surveyed  me. 

"I  ain't  a  geologist,  but  I  am  a  criminolo- 
gist, and  just  one  more  of  your  monkey  tricks 
like  that  and  I'll  put  you  where  you'll  have 
time  to  study  a  lot  of  rocks  and  do  a  lot  of 
thinkin'  before  bein'  funny  again.  Now,  you 
get  out!  Get  into  that  car  as  quick  as  you 
can,  if  you  know  what's  good  for  you !" 

Hoping  I  could  retrieve  the  revolver  later, 
and  realizing  that  nothing  could  be  gained  by 
staying  there  longer,  I  started  toward  the 
car.  I  had  hardly  taken  five  steps  when  I 
heard  a  joyful  yell  and  turned  to  see  Robin- 
son struggling  to  his  feet,  the  muddy 
revolver  in  his  hand. 

"Here's  your  cuff-link,"  he  cried.  "Before 
I'm  through  you'll  find  that  this  ain't  a  cuff- 
link, but  a  necklace  for  the  neck  of  that 
pretty  sister  of  yours.  You,  with  your 
Socialists  and  your  cuff-buttons,  tryin'  to 
keep  me  from  gettin'  what  I  go  after.    Well, 


130  32   CALIBER 

it  didn't  work !  It  don't  usually,  when  I  go 
after  somethin'.     It  didn't  work,  did  it?" 

"No.     It  didn't  work,"  I  admitted. 

"Oh,  I  don't  blame  you,"  Robinson  went 
on,  mollified  by  his  success  and  the  soft  tone 
of  my  reply;  "I'd  of  done  the  same  thing 
in  your  place,  if  my  sister  was  a  murderer." 

The  word  "murderer"  acted  like  an  electric 
shock  on  me. 

"She  didn't  do  it,  I  tell  you;  she  couldn't 
have  done  it!" 

"Now,  Mr.  Thompson,"  Robinson  began  in 
a  soothing  voice.  "These  things  happen  in 
even  the  best  families  sometimes.  You 
mustn't  take  it  too  hard." 

"Will  you  let  me  examine  that  revolver?" 
I  demanded. 

"Why,  no.  I  can't  let  you  examine  it.  But 
I'll  examine  it  when  I  get  ready." 

"Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  do  it  now?"  I 
asked. 

"What  for?" 

"Because  it  may  not  have  been  fired  at  all. 


IT  LOOKS  BAD  FOR  HELEN    131 

That  would  make  things  look  entirely  differ- 
ent, you  know." 

The  inspector  took  out  the  gaudy  handker- 
chief again  and  wiped  the  mud  off  the  barrel 
and  the  grip.  I  had  shoved  the  pistol  barrel 
foremost  into  the  bank  so  the  muzzle  was 
filled  with  clay.  It  was  Jim's — a  "32"  auto- 
matic. 

"It  won't  be  spoilin'  any  evidence  by  my 
cleanin*  this  mud  off  the  outside,  because  you 
put  that  there  yourself,"  the  detective  said, 
wiping  the  pistol  carefully.  He  released  the 
spring  and  pulled  out  the  clip.  I  saw  a  cart- 
ridge at  the  top  of  the  clip  and  exclaimed: 
"There!  You  see?  That  gun  was  never 
fired!" 

The  inspector  looked  at  me  with  a  pitying 
smile. 

"Now,  that's  where  you're  wrong,  Mr. 
Thompson.  You  see,  you  don't  know  the 
inner  workings  of  an  automatic.  When  a 
gun  like  this  is  fired,  it  discharges  the  old 
shell  and  a  new  cartridge  comes  to  the  top 


132  32   CALlBEiR 

of  the  clip.  There  are  only  three  cartridges 
left  in  this  clip." 

"t)o  you  mean  to  say  that  my  sister  fired 
more  than  one  shot  ?"  I  asked  sarcastically. 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  the  little  man  re- 
sponded airily.  "There  were  probably  only 
four  cartridges  in  the  guA  in  the  first  place. 
You're  gettin*  all  excited  over  this  thing.  Of 
course,  I  don't  blame  you,  Mr.  Thompson,  for 
tryin'  to  fight  against  facts,  but  it  certainly 
looks  bad  for  sister." 

I  got  into  my  car  and  started  home,  my 
heart  dead  within  me.  It  certainly  did  look 
bad  for  Helen. 


CHAPTER  NINE 

LOOK  OUT,  JIM 

A  GOOD    general    realizes    when    he    is 
beaten  and  changes  his  tactics  accord- 
ingly. Where  I  had  been  certain  of  Zalnitch's 
guilt  before,  and  had  planned  his  prosecution, 
now,  with  the  sickening  certainty  that  it  was 
my  sister  herself  who  was  guilty,  I  began  to 
plan  her  defense.     Yes,  I'll  admit  right  now, 
the  gun  convinced  me.     I  had  been  certain 
that  Jim  had  not  been  killed  through  careless 
driving,  that  is  why  I  had  been  so  insistent 
that  Inspector  Robinson  should  hunt  down 
those  responsible  for  his  death.     Now  that 
it  was  too  late,  I  cursed  myself  for  not  having, 
let  well-enough  alone  and  aided  the  coro;ner. 
in  giving  a  verdict  of  accidental  death,     My, 
suspicions  against  Zalnitch  had  been  based; 
on  the  knowledge  that  he  hated  Jim  and 
would  have  done  anything  to  put  him  out  of- 
the  way.     Coincidence  had  brought  him  over 
the  same  road  that  Jim  had  traveled  a  fe^v 
133. 


134  32   CALIBER 

minutes  before  his  death.  This  had  strength- 
ened my  suspicions,  but  the  case  would  have 
been  hard  to  prove,  while  the  evidence 
against  Helen  was  too  pronounced  to  be 
disregarded.  Woods,  too,  had  gained  my 
suspicions,  and  yet  he  was  miles  away  from 
the  murder.  I  realized  suddenly  that  I  had 
been  refusing  to  look  at  the  obvious  in  order 
that  I  might  place  the  guilt  where  I  wanted 
to  believe  it  lay.  Yet  it  did  seem  the  irony 
of  fate  that  the  two  men  benefiting  by  Jim's 
death  should  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

Helen  did  it!  As  the  awful  realization  of 
what  that  meant  came  over  me,  I  hoped,  for 
a  brief  second,  that  death  would  take  her  and 
so  spare  her  the  consequences  of  her  act.  It 
would  be  such  an  easy  way  out.  I  felt  sure 
that  if  she  died  I  could  hush  the  whole  thing 
up.  The  Sun  could  be  bought,  if  enough 
money  was  offered. 

These  gruesome  thoughts  carried  me  into 
the  city  almost  before  I  knew  it.  I  stopped 
at  the  house  to  change  my  muddy  clothes, 
before  going  to  the  hospital  to  get  Mary, 


LOOK  OUT,  JIM  135 

and  learned  from  the  maid  that  mother  had 
been  asking  for  me.  I  went  quickly  to  her 
room.  She  was  lying  in  bed  and  at  first  I 
thought  she  was  asleep,  but  she  turned  as  I 
approached  her. 

"Is  that  you,  Warren?"  she  asked  softly. 

"Yes,  mother.  Stella  said  you  wanted  to 
see  me."  I  bent  down  and  kissed  her  lightly. 
She  reached  up  and  put  her  thin  weak  arms 
around  my  neck. 

"Warren,  is  there  anjrthing  wrong?  If 
there  is  you  must  tell  me." 

"No,  mother.  What  made  you  think  that  ?" 
I  asked. 

She  slowly  withdrew  her  arms  and  let 
them  fall  at  her  side. 

"I  don't  know.  I  seemed  to  feel  that 
something  had  happened.  Just  lying  here,  I 
felt  afraid  for  you  children — and  then  there 
were  so  many  people  ringing  the  bell  and  the 
telephone,  I  was  afraid  that  some  accident 
had  happened  to  you  or  Helen." 

I  patted  her  wan  cheek.  "It's  just  your 
Imagination.     The  only  thing  wrong  is  that 


136  32   CALIBER 

my  dearest,  little  mother  isn't  as  well  and 
strong  as  her  good-for-nothing  son." 

I  kissed  her  again,  and  she  smiled  up 
at  me.  "I'm  so  glad,"  she  whispered.  "I  was 
worried." 

I  almost  choked  when  I  got  outside.  If 
Helen  should  recover  and  be  put  on  trial,  it 
would  kill  mother,  I  felt  sure.  And  I  would 
be  left  alone  in  the  world.  Down-stairs,  I 
asked  Stella  who  had  called,  and  she  told  me 
the  reporters  had  been  trying  to  find  me  all 
day. 

During  the  drive  to  the  hospital,  I  tried  to 
focus  my  mind  on  Helen's  defense,  but  all 
the  force  seemed  to  have  been  sapped  out  of 
me.  I  felt  weak  and  miserable  and  unut- 
terably lonely. 

At  the  hospital,  they  received  me  with  the 
quiet  sympathy  that  strengthens  you  in  spite 
of  yourself  and  gives  you  hope.  Doctor 
Forbes,  who  had  operated  on  Helen  the  night 
before,  was  in  the  office.  He  had  just  come 
from  Helen's  room  and  he  reported  her  con- 
dition to  be  "extr^m^ly  satisfactory." 


LOOK  OUT,  JIM  m 

"There  is  only  one  thing  that  worries  me," 
he  said.  "Your  sister  seems  to  have  some- 
thing on  her  mind  that  keeps  her  from  rest- 
ing as  quietly  as  I  could  wish.  It  is  some 
real  or  fancied  danger  that  repeats  itself 
over  and  over  in  her  delirium.  If  we  could 
(only  hit  on  something  that  would  ease  her 
mind  of  those  fears,  I  should  have  every 
reason  to  believe  she'd  get  well.  I  say  this 
to  you  because  you  are  her  brother  and  are 
no  doubt  acquainted  with  what  has  happened 
to  her  in  the  last  few  weeks,  and  may  be  able 
to  suggest  what  it  is  she  fears." 

"Perhaps  it  is  the  accident  itself,"  I 
offered. 

He  shook  his  head.  "It  may  be,  but  I 
think  not.  However,  suppose  you  step  into 
the  room  and  listen  to  what  she  says.  If  we 
can  only  rid  her  of  her  fears  and  get  her  to 
rest  quietly,  I  am  positive  she  will  recover." 

I  shook  his  hand  warmly  and  went  up- 
stairs to  Helen's  room.  I  knew  what  it  was 
Helen  feared.  The  consequences  of  her 
crime.     The  terrible  fear  of  public  prosecu- 


138  32   CALIBER 

tion  for  the  murder  of  her  husband  was 
torturing  her  poor  delirious  brain.  For  a 
moment  I  forgave  her  everything  and  pitied 
her  from  the  depths  of  my  heart. 

The  smell  of  ether  lay  thick  in  the  air  as 
I  walked  down  the  long  corridor  to  Helen's 
room.  I  knocked  softly  at  the  door  and  a 
white-capped  nurse  opened  it  a  little  way, 
her  finger  to  her  lips.  I  beckoned  her  outside 
and  told  her  Doctor  Forbes  wished  me  to  find 
out,  if  I  could,  what  troubled  my  sister's 
mind. 

As  we  entered,  I  saw  Mary  sitting  by  the 
bed,  holding  the  hand  of  the  poor  white  fig- 
ure that  lay,  death-like,  beneath  the  sheet. 
Helen's  head  was  swathed  in  bandages, 
except  for  the  oval  of  her  face.  She  looked 
quite  like  some  fair  nun  who  had  said  her 
last  "Ava."  It  was  impossible  to  believe  that 
it  was  her  hand  that  had  fired  the  shot  that 
killed  Jim,  and  if  she  lived,  that  she  would 
have  to  face  the  world  a  murderer. 

Mary  only  glanced  up  at  me  for  a  moment 
and  then  turned  her  eyes  again  to  Helen's 


LOOK  OUT,  JIM  139 

lips  to  catch  any  sound  that  might  pass  them. 
As  I  watched  her  sitting  there  so  patiently, 
a  little  pale  from  her  cramped  vigil  by  the 
bedside,  a  great  tenderness  welled  up  in  my 
heart,  for  her.  Just  then  Helen's  lips  began 
to  move.  At  first  the  words  were  inaudible, 
although  Mary  leaned  forward  to  catch  them. 
Then  with  a  half -cry,  in  which  there  was  a 
perfect  agony  of  fear 

"Look  out,  Jim!  It's  going  to  hit  us! 
Oh-oh-oh " 

The  voice  died  away  and  was  succeeded  by 
moans,  low  and  trembling.  Mary  glanced 
up  with  a  startled  look  in  her  eyes.  The 
nurse  went  quickly  to  the  bedside  and 
soothed  the  impatient  hand  that  was  plucking 
at  the  sheets.  As  for  me,  my  forehead  was 
bathed  in  sweat  and  tears  were  running  down 
my  cheeks,  but  a  joy  throbbed  and  sang 
through  my  heart  till  I  felt  that  I  should 
suffocate  unless  I  left  that  ether-filled  room 
for  the  open  air. 

I  tiptoed  toward  the  door  and  caught  a 
nod  from  Mary  as  I  passed,  which  said  she 


140  32    CALIBER 

would  join  me  later.  For  a  second,  after  I 
closed  the  door,  I  couldn't  move.  My  legs 
failed  me  and  I  felt  I  was  going  to  faint 
Gathering  all  my  strength,  I  stumbled  over 
to  a  chair  by  the  window  and  sat  down. 

I  think  I  should  have  dropped  to  my  knees 
and  thanked  God  right  there,  if  I  hadn't 
feared  that  my  prayers  would  have  been 
interrupted.  That  cry,  "Look  out,  Jim!" 
proved  not  only  that  Helen  had  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  Jim's  death,  but  that  she 
had  tried  to  warn  him  of  his  danger.  "It's 
going  to  hit  us !"  What  could  that  mean  but 
that  my  first  theory  was  correct,  that  the 
men  in  the  black  limousine  had  recognized 
Jim'^  car  and  had  tried  to  run  him  into  the 
ditch?  Schreiber  and  Zalnitch  were  at  the 
bottom  of  it,  after  all,  and  Helen  was 
innocent. 

As  I  had  hoped  she  would  die,  when  I 
thought  her  guilty,  now  I  hoped  and  prayed 
she  would  live.  I  recalled  Doctor  Forbes' 
words:  "If  we  could  only  hit  on  something 
that  would  ease  her  mind  of  those  fears,  I 


LOOK  OUT,  JIM  141 

would  have  every  reason  to  believe  she  would 
get  well."  I  could  at  least  tell  him  the  cause 
of  the  fear  and  leave  it  to  him  to  find  a  rem- 
edy. With  Helen  well,  ready  to  testify  as  to 
the  details  of  that  tragic  night,  we  would 
certainly  bring  Jim's  murderers  to  trial. 

The  door  opened  and  Mary  came  out.  I 
rose  and  walked  over  to  her,  my  eyes  still 
betraying  the  emotion  Helen's  words  had 
roused  in  me. 

"You  heard  what  she  said?"  Mary 
breathed. 

"We  knew  she  didn't  do  it,  didn't  we?" 

"But,  Warren,  the  things  she  says  are  all 
so  weird  and  mixed  up.  Sometimes  she  talks 
of  things  that  happened  just  recently  and 
then  again  she  babbles  of  things  that  took 
place  a  long  time  ago  when  we  were  kids. 
Once  when  the  nurse  came  into  the  room, 
Helen  began  crying  as  though  her  heart 
would  break  and  begged  that  we  wouldn't 
think  too  harshly  of  her.  Again  she  re- 
peated over  and  over,  'He  didn't  do  it — He 
didn't  do  it!'" 


142  S2  CALIBER 

"Her  other  fears,"  I  replied,  "probably  had 
to  do  with  Woods.  But  that  cry  to  Jim  to 
'Look  out!*  is  a  real  clue  and  I'm  going  to 
sift  it  to  the  bottom." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  Mary  de- 
manded. 

"I'm  going  to  accuse  Zalnitch  of  Jim's 
murder — going  to  accuse  him  to  his  face." 

"Oh,  be  careful,  BuppsI  Nothing  must 
happen  to  you !" 

The  tone  she  used,  her  sweet  anxiety  for 
my  safety,  went  to  my  head  and  I  reached 
out  to  take  her  in  my  arms,  but  with  a  little 
protesting  gesture  she  stopped  me. 

"Please  don't  be  foolish,  Warren !"  Then 
as  she  saw  my  spirits  droop,  she  added,  "Not 
till  Helen  is  weU,'^ 


CHAPTER  TEN 
I  ACCUSE  ZALNITCH 

"TV  yf^*  2ALNITCH  is  busy  and  can't  see 

IVl  you." 

The  girl,  evidently  a  stenographer  or  secre- 
tary, looked  coolly  competent  in  her  white 
shirt-waist  and  well-made  skirt.  I  was  sur- 
prised to  find  a  young  woman  of  her  evident 
education  and  refinement  in  the  employ  of 
such  a  man. 

"Did  you  give  him  my  message  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yes.    He  said  he  was  not  interested." 

I  felt  vaguely  disappointed  that  my  strate- 
gy had  not  worked.  I  had  given  the  name  of 
Anderson,  and  had  represented  myself  as  the 
head  of  the  Steamfitters'  Union  of  Cleveland, 
anxious  for  instructions  on  how  to  settle  sL 
labor  problem  in  our  local  union.  I  had  done 
this,  feeling  that  if  I  gave  my  own  name,  he 
might  refuse  to  see  me.  Apparently  my  alias 
was  to  have  no  better  success. 

"When  will  he  be  free,  can  you  tell  me?" 
143 


144  32   CALIBER 

*1  couldn't  say,"  the  girl  answered.  "He 
is  very  busy  at  present,  but  if  you  will  come 
in  and  wait,  perhaps  he  may  see  you  later." 

It  seemed  to  me  there  was  the  faintest  sug- 
gestion of  a  smile  on  the  girl's  face  as  I 
stepped  across  the  threshold  into  the  small 
waiting-room,  but  I  hadn't  a  chance  to  ob- 
serve more  closely,  for  she  turned  her  back 
on  me  at  once  and  immediately  resumed  her 
typewriting. 

The  room  in  which  I  found  myself  was  one 
of  a  dingy  suite  in  an  old  warehouse  that  had 
been  converted  into  a  newspaper  building  to 
house  The  Uplift,  a  weekly  paper,  edited  by 
a  Russian  Jew  named  Borsky  and  financed  by 
Schreiber.  It  was  a  typical  anarchistic  sheet, 
and  had  been  suppressed  for  a  time,  during 
the  war.  Opposite  where  I  sat  was  a  door 
from  which  the  paint  had  peeled  in  places. 
This  evidently  led  into  Zalnitch's  office,  for  I 
could  hear  the  murmur  of  voices  behind  it. 
The  rooms  were  ill-lighted  and  unclean,  and  it 
made  me  mad  to  see  as  nice  a  girl  as  the  ste- 
nographer working  herself  to  death  in  such 


I  ACCUSE   ZALNITCH  145 

dingy  surroundings  and  for  such  a  man  as 
Zalnitch. 

I  watched  her  as  she  worked  and  marveled 
that  any  one  could  make  her  fingers  go  so 
rapidly.  I  noticed  with  admiration  and  dis- 
satisfaction, that  unlike  my  stenographers, 
she  didn't  have  to  stop  to  erase  a  misspelled 
word  every  two  minutes.  I  wondered  what 
salary  Zalnitch  paid  her  and  if  she  would  like 
to  change  employers. 

"I  hope  you  will  pardon  my  interrupting 
your  work — "  I  began. 

"You're  not,"  the  girl  responded,  without 
even  glancing  up. 

"May  I  ask  if  you  are  entirely  satisfied 
with  your  employment  here  ?" 

"Why  do  you  ask?"  she  inquired,  stopping 
for  a  moment  and  fixing  me  with  clear  gray 
eyes. 

"I  am  badly  in  need  of  a  competent  stenog- 
rapher and  I  thought  you  might  prefer  work- 
ing in  a  place  where  the  surroundings  are 
pleasanter  and  the  pay  probably  higher." 

She  studied  me  a  moment,  as  though  card- 


146  32    CALIBER 

indexing:  me,  then  having  apparently  decided 
that  I  was  in  earnest  and  not  merely  trying 
to  flirt,  that  elusive  smile  again  played  about 
her  mouth. 

"You  are  the  first  steamfitter  I  ever  met 
that  found  himself  badly  in  need  of  a  ste- 
nographer." 

Caught!  I  bit  my  lip  at  my  stupid  blunder, 
but  had  to  laugh  in  spite  of  myself. 

**Your  make-up  is  all  wrong,  Mr.  Anderson 
— if  your  name  is  Anderson.  I  don't  know 
what  you  are  trying  to  do,  nor  why  you 
picked  out  steamfitting  as  your  mythical  life- 
work,  but  I  do  know  you  aren't  a  detective." 

This  time  the  smile  came  out  in  the  open. 
I  liked  her  immensely.  She  might  make  an 
ally.  She  would  at  least  know  what  had  hap- 
pened in  the  office  during  the  last  few  days. 

"Miss—?" 

"Miller,"  she  added. 

"Miss  Miller.  I  am  a  lawyer,  and  my  sister 
is  about  to  be  accused  of  a  terrible  crime 
which  she  didn't  commit.  I  think  I  know  who 
did  commit  it,  but  so  far  I  haven't  been  able 


I  ACCUSE   ZALNTTCH  147 

to  connect  him  definitely  with  the  crime.  I 
think  you  can  help  me.    Will  you?" 

"What  makes  you  think  I  can  help  you?" 
she  asked. 

"Because  you  are  so  situated  you  can  ob- 
serve the  person  I  believe  to  be  responsible 
for  the  crime,"  I  replied. 

Her  gaze  changed  from  pleasant  question- 
ing to  indignant  surprise.  When  she  spoke 
her  voice  was  coldly  final. 

"I  think  you  have  made  a  mistake  in  judg- 
ment of  character.  Please  let  me  finish  my 
work  now." 

"Miss  Miller,  please  don't  think  for  a  min- 
ute that  I—" 

Behind  me  a  door  opened  and,  as  I  turned, 
I  found  myself  looking  into  the  wrathful  eyes 
of  a  stunted  little  man  with  an  enormous 
head.  Any  one  who  has  once  seen  Zalnitch 
can  never  forget  him.  His  wizened,  mis- 
shapen body  is  a  grotesque  caricature  of  a 
man's,  which,  surmounted  by  his  huge  head 
with  its  bushy  hair,  makes  him  look  for  all 
the  world  like  some  scientist's  experiment. 


148  32   CALIBER 

In  the  doorway  to  Zalnitch's  private  office 
stood  Schreiber,  a  heavy- jowled,  unsmiling 
mastiff  of  a  man. 

"What  do  you  want  that  you  should  be 
keeping  my  stenographer  from  working?" 
Zalnitch's  voice  rose  in  a  shrill  crescendo. 
"Get  out  of  here  I  You  have  no  business  here. 
Get  out!" 

"Zalnitch,  I  came  here  to  speak  to  you." 

"Get  out!"  he  screamed.  "I  won't  talk 
with  you.  I  have  no  time  to  waste,  even  if 
you  have.  I  know  who  you  are.  You're  the 
brother-in-law  of  Felderson,  the  blood-suck- 
ing millionaire  who  sent  me  to  jail.  I  won't 
talk  with  you,  do  you  hear?" 

As  he  grew  more  excited  I  seemed  to  grow 
cooler. 

"Zalnitch,  I'm  going  to  swear  out  a  war- 
rant against  you  for  my  brother's  murder." 

For  a  moment  the  little  man  blinked  at  me 
in  amazement ;  then  he  threw  back  his  head 
and  laughed,  a  shrill,  giggling  squeak.  With 
his  fists  he  pounded  his  misshapen  legs. 

"You  arrest  me  for  his  murder?   Hee-hee ! 


I  ACCUSE   ZALNITCH  149 

You  hear,  Schreiber?  He  is  going  to — ^to  ar- 
rest me!" 

Suddenly  he  stopped,  as  quickly  as  he  had 
started. 

"Go  ahead!  Arrest  me!  Try  to  send  me 
to  prison  again.  I'll  make  you  sweat  blood 
before  you  are  through.  You  think  I  killed 
him — ^your  brother?  I  wish  I  had.  I'd  be 
proud  to  say  I  killed  him!  You  hear?  I 
wish  I  had  killed  him.  I  wish  he  were  alive 
so  I  could  kill  him." 

The  little  monstrosity  emphasized  each  of 
his  staccato  sentences  by  stamping  a  puny 
foot  on  the  floor.  His  gloating  over  Jim's 
death  was  more  than  flesh  could  stand. 

"Stop!"  I  yelled.  "If  it  wasn't  you  that 
killed  him,  it  was  one  of  that  murderous 
gang  of  cutthroats  and  anarchists  that  was 
with  you.  If  it  wasn't  you,  then  it  was 
Schreiber's  son — ^that  Prussian  jail-bird,  or 
one  of  his  friends." 

Zalnitch's  eyes  blazed.  "You  call  us  an- 
archists and  cutthroats.  You,  who  are  a 
product  of  the  rotten  government  that  has 


150  32   CALIBER 

ground  down  and  oppressed  the  people  I  rep- 
resent. Because  we  rebel,  you  throw  us  in 
prison,  making  a  mockery  of  your  boasted 
liberty.  So  they  did  for  a  time  in  Russia. 
You  call  us  'cutthroats.*  It's  a  good  term. 
I  hope  to  God  we  earn  that  title." 

Finding  that  the  talk  was  turning  into 
a  political  harangue,  I  turned  my  back  on 
Zalnitch  and  started  toward  the  door.  Schrei- 
ber  followed  me. 

"Chust  one  minud."  There  was  heavy 
menace  in  his  look.  "You  galled  my  son  a 
chail-bird  a  minud  ago.  He  vas  in  chail  be- 
cause he  did  righd,  but  dot  don't  matter. 
You're  egsited,  because  your  brodder  vas 
gilled.  Ve  don't  know  nodding  aboud  it.  Ve 
heard  aboud  it  de  nexd  day.  I  don'd  have 
nodding  against  Velderson,  bud  if  you  dry  to 
pud  my  son,  Karl,  in  chail  again,  someding 
vill  happen  to  you.  I'm  delling  dis  to  you  vor 
your  own  good." 

Disappointed  at  the  interview,  I  closed  the 
door  behind  me  and  started  down  the  hall.  I 
don't  know  just  what  I  had  hoped  to  find  out, 


I   ACCUSE   ZALNITCH  151 

but  I  thought  Zalnitch  would  betray  himself 
in  some  way — must  in  some  way  show  his 
guilty  knowledge  of  Jim's  death.  Instead, 
he  had  laughed  at  me  when  I  threatened  to 
arrest  him,  even  wished  he  could  claim  the 
credit  for  the  crime. 

I  heard  the  pattering  of  feet  and  turned  to 
find  Miss  Miller  behind  me. 

"Mr.  Thompson." 

"Yes,  Miss  Miller." 

"A  few  moments  ago  you  asked  me  to  help 
you  discover  who  killed  your  brother-in-law. 
For  some  reason  you  think  Mr.  Zalnitch  had 
something  to  do  with  it,  and  you  wanted  me 
to  give  you  any  information  I  could  about 
him." 

"Yes,"  I  responded. 

"When  you  made  that  proposal,  I  was  very 
angry  because  I  resented  your  thinking  I'd 
spy  on  my  employer.  However,  your  suspi- 
cions are  so  ridiculous  I  feel  it  is  only  fair  to 
tell  you  that  you  are  wasting  your  time." 

"What  makes  you  so  sure  that  Zalnitch 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  Miss  Miller?" 


152  32   CACIBER 

"Because  I  know  he  is  utterly  incapable  of 
doing  anything  of  that  kind,"  she  answered. 

I  half  smiled.  "Mr.  Zalnitch  has  the  rep- 
utation of  holding  life  very  cheaply — ^that  is, 
the  lives  of  others  who  stand  in  his  way.  He 
hated  my  brother-in-law  for  that  very  reason. 
If  he  didn't  kill  him,  it  wasn't  because  he 
didn't  want  to.  For  proof  of  it,  you  heard 
what  he  said  in  there." 

The  girl  looked  me  over  for  a  minute.  A 
far-away  look  had  come  into  her  eyes. 

"Mr.  Thompson,  Mr.  Zalnitch  is  obsessed 
by  a  wonderful  idea.  You  people  call  him 
'Bolshevist'  and  'anarchist,'  because  he  is  try- 
ing to  overthrow  the  existing  order  of  things. 
In  working  out  his  great  theory,  he  would 
stamp  out  a  nation  if  it  interfered  with  the 
fulfillment  of  his  plan,  and  he  would  not  think 
that  he  had  done  anything  wrong.  In  fact, 
he  would  think  it  the  only  thing  to  do.  In 
that  much,  he  holds  life  cheaply.  But  if  you 
think  he  would  descend  to  wreaking  venge- 
ance on  individuals  for  personal  spite,  you  are 
all  wrong.   He  is  too  big  a  man  for  that." 


I  ACCUSE   ZALNITCH  153 

"Did  Zalnitch  send  you  out  to  say  this  to 
me  ?"    I  asked  suspiciously. 

The  girl  flushed  angrily.  "Really,  Mr. 
Thompson,  you  make  it  almost  impossible 
for  any  one  to  help  you.  Instead  of  being 
sent,  I  may  be  dismissed  for  having  come  out 
here  to  talk  to  you.  You  asked  for  my  as- 
sistance and  now  that  I  have  tried  to  give  it, 
you  make  me  regret  the  impulse.'* 

She  turned  and  started  to  leave,  but  I 
called  her  back. 

"Miss  Miller,  please  forgive  me  and  don't 
think  me  ungrateful.  Mr.  Felderson  meant 
more  to  me  than  any  person  living,  and  I  have 
made  up  by  mind  to  bring  his  murderer  to 
justice  if  I  have  to  devote  the  rest  of  my  life 
to  it.  I  know  that  I  have  been  jumping  at 
conclusions.  I've  done  a  lot  of  things  since 
Mr.  Felderson's  death  that  I  can't  under- 
stand, myself, — things  that  were  entirely  un- 
like me — ^but  I  feel  that  I  would  be  a  traitor 
to  my  brother-in-law's  memory  unless  I  fol- 
low every  possible  clue.  He  had  only  three 
enemies  and  one  was  Zalnitch,  who  threat- 


154  32   CALIBER 

ened  him.  Isn't  it  only  natural  that  I  should 
suspect  him  T* 

Her  look  was  entirely  sympathetic  as  she 
replied. 

"I  know  how  Mr.  Felderson's  death  must 
have  affected  you,  Mr.  Thompson,  and  I  do 
want  to  help  you.  You  say  he  had  three 
enemies;  then  I  advise  you  to  look  for  the 
other  two,  for  I  am  positive  Mr.  Zalnitch  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  murder." 

I  thanked  her  and  went  down  the  rickety 
stairs,  believing  somehow  that  she  had  told 
me  the  truth.  But  if  not  Zalnitch,  then  who  ? 
I  knew  that  in  less  than  a  week,  as  soon  as 
Helen  was  well  enough  to  stand  the  shock, 
she  would  be  indicted,  unless  in  the  mean- 
time, I  could  discover  the  murderer.  Helen 
had  regained  consciousness  the  night  before, 
but  was  far  too  weak  to  undergo  any  ques- 
tioning. My  impatience  at  the  delay,  neces- 
sary before  she  could  tell  the  story  of  the 
crime,  had  driven  me,  most  foolishly,  I  now 
realized,  into  trying  to  force  Zalnitch  to  01 
guilty  admission  of  complicity. 


I  ACCUSE   ZALNITCH  155 

When  I  got  hold  of  myself,  I  knew  well 
enough  that  the  only  sensible  course  was  to 
wait  until  Helen  should  be  able  to  clear  up 
the  mystery,  so  I  went  to  the  office  and  be- 
gan the  heavy  task  of  putting  Jim's  effects 
in  order. 


CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

A  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT 

JIM  was  buried  on  Tuesday.  The  funeral 
was  very  quiet,  only  Mary  and  myself, 
with  a  few  of  Jim's  most  intimate  friends, 
attending.  I  have  always  had  a  repugnance 
to  large  and  ostentatious  funerals  and  I  felt 
that  Jim  would  have  preferred  to  have  the 
actual  ceremony  over  as  quickly  and  quietly 
as  possible.  It  affected  me  too  much  to  allow 
me  to  think  of  anything  else  but  my  loss,  at 
the  time,  and  I  should  have  left  town  the  day 
after,  had  I  not  received  a  summons  to  appear 
before  the  grand  jury. 

Mary  called  me  up  and  told  me  that  she, 
too,  had  been  summoned,  so  I  drove  the  car 
around  for  her.  She  was  nervous  and  fright- 
ened at  the  thought  of  having  to  testify  and 
she  asked  me  all  the  questions  she  could  think 
of  on  what  to  do  and  what  to  say.  I  reas- 
sured her,  telling  her  the  district  attorney 
was  friendly  to  Jim  and  that  I  was  confident 
156 


A  DOUBLE   INDICTMENT        157 

our  testimony  as  to  Helen's  words  would 
stave  off  any  indictment  until  Helen  was  well 
enough  to  testify. 

"But,  Warren,  the  fact  that  she  was  delir- 
ious will  make  it  pretty  shaky  testimony, 
won't  it  ?"  Mary  argued. 

"Yes,  that's  true.  But  I  don't  think  that 
they  will  want  to  bring  an  indictment  while 
Helen  is  ill.  You  see,  the  indictment  couldn't 
be  served  anyway,  and  I  think  our  testimony 
will  convince  them  there's  a  reasonable  doubt 
as  to  Helen's  guilt." 

She  seemed  convinced  until  the  gloomy 
bulk  of  the  court-house  came  in  view,  when 
terror  rushed  back  fourfold. 

"Oh,  Bupps,  can't  I  get  out  of  it?" 

"No,  dear,  it's  got  to  be  gone  through  with. 
Remember  it  depends  on  you  and  me." 

"But  what  if  they  ask  me  Jim's  and  Helen's 
conversation  before  they  started  for  the 
country-club  ?" 

"Tell  them  as  little  as  possible,  but  stick 
to  the  truth.  We  know  Helen's  innocent  and 
the  truth  can't  hurt  her." 


158  32    CALIBER 

We  passed  Inspector  Robinson  in  the  hall 
down-stairs  and  the  half  smile  on  his  lips 
irritated  me.  It  was  his  report  to  the  grand 
jury  that  had  stirred  things  up.  He  knew 
only  too  well  that  with  the  sensational  Sun 
to  back  him,  an  indictment  would  be  taken 
by  the  public  to  mean  proven  guilt. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  anteroom  we  found 
Wicks,  his  face  drawn  into  lines  of  the  most 
acute  misery. 

"I  couldn't  'elp  it,  sir.  They  made  me 
come." 

"I  know  it,  Wicks.  Don't  worry!  It's  a 
mere  formality,"  I  reassured  him. 

"I  'ope  so,  sir,  but  I  don't  like  it." 

"None  of  us  do,  Wicks,  but  it  can't  be 
helped,"  I  replied.  "Did  Annie  come  with 
you?" 

"No,  sir.  Strange  to  say  she  wasn't  called, 
sir." 

Good  I  That  helped  our  case  some.  Mary 
and  I  walked  into  the  anteroom  to  await  our 
turn.  The  coroner  was  already  there.  Wicks 
had  followed  us  and  took  a  seat  close  by. 


4  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT       159 

Mary's  face  was  a  study  in  suppressed  nerv- 
ousness. 

"Couldn't  you  go  in  there  with  me,  Bupps  ?" 
she  asked. 

"No,  Mary,  the  grand  jury  does  its  work  in 
secret." 

A  clerk  called  the  coroner  and  as  he  passed 
from  the  room,  Robinson  and  Pickering  came 
in.  Robinson  didn't  even  glance  in  my  di- 
rection, but  Pickering  walked  over  quickly 
and  shook  hands. 

"Devilish  sorry  things  have  taken  the  turn 
they  have,  old  man,"  he  said. 

**You  mean  about — ^my  sister?" 

**Yes.  Robinson  seems  to  think  he  has  all 
the  proof  he  needs.    I  wish  I  could  help  you." 

"Thanks  awfully,"  I  replied. 

He  had  only  been  seated  a  few  moments 
when  he  was  called  to  testify.  As  the  coronor 
left  the  room,  I  tried  to  read  in  his  face  the 
nature  of  his  testimony,  but  it  was  inscruta- 
ble. Pickering  was  out  in  less  than  ten  min- 
utes, and  then  Wicks  was  called.  His  legs 
seemed  a  bit  shaky  as  he  started  for  the  door 


160  82   CALIBER 

and  he  gave  me  a  parting  look,  half  awe,  half 
terror. 

Robinson  paced  up  and  down,  his  short 
stubby  legs  expressing  confidence  and  satis- 
faction. Every  turn,  he  scrutinized  Mary, 
as  if  trying  to  place  her  in  some  criminal 
category. 

At  last  Wicks  came  out,  perspiring  as  if 
he'd  been  in  a  steam  bath.  Robinson  looked 
him  over  once,  gave  a  snort  of  derision  and 
passed  into  the  jury  room.  I  wanted  to  ask 
Wicks  some  questions,  but  the  poor  man  fled 
before  I  could  attract  his  notice. 

Mary  got  up  and  walked  over  to  the  big 
windows  where  a  flood  of  warm  September 
sunlight  poured  into  the  room.  For  a  mo- 
ment she  stood  gazing  down  on  the  crowded 
square  below,  then  suddenly  turned  and  half 
sobbed : 

"Bupps,  I  can't  stand  it!  I  may  say  some- 
thing that  will  hurt  Helen." 

Great  sobs  shook  her  slender  body.  I  went 
over  and  clumsily  tried  to  comfort  her. 

"Mary,  dear,  Helen  didn't  do  it.    When  she 


A  DOUBLE   INDICTMENT        161 

is  well  enough,  we'll  be  able  to  find  out  all 
about  it.  Even  if  they  do  bring  an  indict- 
ment, Helen  can  prove  her  innocence." 

The  sobs  diminished  to  sniffles,  and  then  to 
occasional  sighs.  She  opened  her  bag,  ex- 
tracted a  miniature  powder-puff  and  dabbed 
at  her  small  upturned  nose  spitefully.  I 
knew  that  the  storm  had  passed. 

"I  know — that — that  I'm  foolish  to  c-cry^, 
but  I  just  c-couldn't  help  it.'* 

A  clerk  opened  the  door  and  called  Mary's? 
name.  She  gave  me  a  startled  glance  and' 
her  face  blanched.  I  thought  she  was  going- 
to  break  down  again,  but  suddenly  I  saw  her 
raise  her  chin  defiantly  and  an  angry  sparkle 
come  to  her  eyes.  She  snapped  shut  her 
vanity-bag  and  marched  toward  the  jury 
room  like  a  soldier,  sentenced  to  be  shot,  yet 
determined  to  die  bravely. 

It  was  only  after  she  had  left  that  I  began 
to  think  about  my  own  testimony.  After  all, 
the  evidence  was  terrifyingly  strong  against 
Helen.  She  had  threatened  to  kill  Jim.  She 
had  quarreled  with  him  just  before  their  last 


162  32    CALIBER 

ride,  had  chosen  the  back  seat  purposely,  had 
JJim's  revolver  with  her,  and  knew  she  was 
being  taken  to  see  her  lover  humiliated  and 
threatened.  Against  all  this,  I  had  only  a 
brother's  faith  in  his  sister  and  those  half 
dozen  words  cried  out  in  a  delirium.  A  sick- 
ening certainty  that  they  would  indict  Helen 
came  over  me.  What  if  she  did — ?  What 
if  she  should  confess  ? 

In  some  way  I  had  to  save  Helen  if  only  for 
mother's  sake.  After  all.  Woods,  too,  had 
threatened  Jim.  He  knew  Jim  had  proof  of 
his  dishonesty.  He  had  made  the  engage- 
ment and  had  asked  Jim  to  come  alone.  At 
this  point  of  my  review  of  the  facts  I  de- 
cided to  tell  the  jury  all.  If  Woods  was  at 
the  country-club  the  entire  evening  he  would 
be  able  to  establish  a  complete  alibi  and  my 
testimony  would  not  hurt  him,  while  it  might 
be  enough,  if  I  could  make  it  so,  to  hold  the 
jury  until  Helen  could  testify.  Hearing  steps 
outside,  I  turned  to  see  the  object  of  my 
mental  attentions  walk  into  the  room. 

"You  here,  Woods  ?"   I  queried. 


A  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT        163 

"Yes.  Those  admirable  servants  of  your 
sister's  gave  the  police  just  enough  of  the 
vulgar  details  of  that  meeting  between  Fel- 
derson  and  myself  to  make  them  think  I — 
well,  they  ordered  me  to  report  and  here  I 
am." 

He  looked  worried  and  irritable.  For  the 
first  time  I  realized  what  the  man  must  have 
gone  through  during  the  last  few  days,  with 
his  business  troubles  and  Helen's  injury. 
How  he  had  met  his  obligations  without  Hel- 
en's money,  I  didn't  know. 

"I  should  have  thought  you'd  have  been 
glad  to  testify  to  save  Helen  from  an  indict- 
nffent." 

Woods  whirled  around.  "You  don't  mean 
to  say  there's  a  chance  of  that,  Thompson? 
Why,  she  didn't  do  it,  she  couldn't  have  done 
it.  She — she  isn't  capable  of  doing  such  a 
thing.  It's  monstrous.  I've  read  the  rot  that 
The  Sun  has  been  printing,  but  I  didn't  think 
— I  can't  think  any  one  would  take  it  seri- 
ously." A  gray  shadow  seemed  to  fall  across 
his  face. 


164  32    CALIBER 

"Felderson  was  shot  from  behind  and  Helen 
was  the  only  one  with  him,"  I  threw  out, 
watching  Woods  closely  to  see  what  effect  my 
words  would  have  on  him.  The  man  looked 
as  though  he  knew  more  about  the  crime  than 
I  had  supposed. 

"I  know  that!  But  haven't  people  sense 
enough  to  see  that  Helen  is  utterly  incapable 
of  such  an  act.  Good  God,  they  must  be 
blind!" 

I  was  brought  back  to  the  business  on  hand 
by  hearing  my  name  shouted.  They  must 
have  let  Mary  out  by  another  door  for  when 
I  entered  the  jury  room  she  was  not  there. 
It  was  hot  and  stuffy,  smelling  of  stale  to- 
bacco and  staler  clothing.  I  noticed  that  the 
jurymen  seemed  deeply  interested  and  that 
they  were,  for  the  most  part,  a  rather  intelli- 
gent lot.  The  foreman,  a  near-sighted 
business-looking  person,  seemed  to  radiate 
sympathy  through  his  glasses.  The  district 
attorney,  Kirkpatrick,  knew  Jim  well,  had  his 
help  often  and  was  one  of  his  best  friends. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked. 


A  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT       165 

**Warren  Thompson." 

"Your  address?" 

"Eleven  thirty-two  Grant  Avenue." 

"Your  business  ?** 

"I  am  a  lawyer,"  I  responded. 

The  district  attorney  seated  himself  at  a 
table  and  arranged  some  papers  before  him. 

"You  were  what  relation  to  the  deceased  ?" 

"The  brother-in-law,"  I  replied. 

"Mr.  Thompson,"  the  attorney  began,  lean- 
ing on  the  table  in  front  of  him,  "will  you 
please  tell  the  jury  if  there  was  any  unhappi- 
ness  in  the  married  life  of  your  sister  and 
brother-in-law  ?" 

"Until  recently  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Felderson 
were  very  happy  together.  During  the  last 
three  months  their  happiness  has  not  been 
quite — so  pronounced." 

"What  was  the  cause  of  their  disagree- 
ment?" 

I  determined  to  begin  my  attack  on  Woods 
at  once. 

"A  man  whom  Mr.  Felderson  disliked  and 
j^id  not  wish  to  come  to  the  house." 


166  32   CALIBER 

"Can  you  tell  the  jury  that  man's  name?" 

"Frank  Woods." 

The  attorney  glanced  at  his  notes. 

"Did  this  man  Woods  make  love  to  Mrs, 
Felderson?" 

"I  couldn't  say.  He  was  very  attentive  to 
her." 

"Did  Mrs.  Felderson  ask  her  husband  to 
divorce  her?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"And  Mr.  Felderson  refused  ?" 

"No.    Mr.  Felderson  consented." 

"You  are  sure  of  that?"  he  demanded. 

"Yes.  I  was  present  when  he  said  he  would 
give  her  a  divorce." 

"Was  Woods  there  at  the  time?" 

"Yes." 

The  foreman  of  the  jury  interrupted  here. 

"Will  you  tell  the  jury  just  what  took 
place  at  that  meeting?" 

I  told  them  briefly  what  happened,  not  for- 
getting to  mention  that  Woods  had  threat- 
ened Jim's  life  in  case  he  did  not  let  Helen 
go. 


A  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT        167, 

"Has  that  man  been  summoned?"  asked 
the  foreman. 

"Yes.  He  is  waiting  to  appear  now,"  a 
clerk  responded. 

"Mr.  Thompson,  did  you  hear  your  sister 
threaten  to  kill  her  husband?"  Kirkpatrick 
asked. 

"My  sister  was  very  excited  at  that  time 
and  said  several  things — " 

"Please  answer  my  question !"  fired  the  dis- 
trict attorney. 

"I  can't  remember,"  I  replied. 

Kirkpatrick  again  consulted  his  papers. 

"A  witness  says  that  on  the  evening  of  the 
disagreement  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Felder- 
son,  she  used  the  words:  *I  could  kill  him,' 
referring  to  her  husband.  Did  you  hear  her 
use  those  words  ?" 

"I  don't  think  she  realized  what  she  was 
saying." 

"I  did  not  ask  for  your  opinions.  Did  you 
hear  her  say  she  could  kill  him  or  that  she 
would  like  to  kill  him?" 


168  32   CALIBER 

The  attorney  seemed  satisfied  and  I  no- 
ticed the  foreman  of  the  jury  lean  back  in 
his  chair. 

"Now,  Mr.  Thompson,"  Kirkpatrick  began, 
"on  the  evening  of  the  tragedy  did  you  see 
Mrs.  Felderson  leave  with  Mr.  Felderson  ?" 

"No,"  I  replied. 

"Do  you  know  if  she  was  sitting  in  the 
back  seat  or  the  front  seat  of  that  automo- 
bile?" he  asked. 

"I  couldn't  say." 

Kirkpatrick  took  Jim's  revolver  from  the 
table. 

"Is  this  revolver  familiar  to  you?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Did  Mr.  Felderson  have  a  revolver  like 
this  ?"  he  demanded. 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  know  whether  he  was  carrying  it 
at  the  time  of  the  tragedy  ?" 

"I'm  not  sure,"  I  stated. 

"Did  Mr.  Felderson  usually  carry  a  gun?'* 

"No." 

"Piigl  Mrs.  Fel^erso;i  haye  a  revolver ?'■* 


A  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT       169 

"No,"  I  replied,  "I  don't  think  she  even 
knows  how  to  use  one." 

"Please  only  answer  my  questions !"  Kirk- 
patrick  rebuked  me  sharply. 

"You  have  stated  to  the  jury  that  Mr. 
Woods  had  threatened  Mr.  Felderson's  life 
in  case  he  did  not  give  Mrs.  Felderson  a 
divorce.  When  did  Mr.  Felderson  intend  giv- 
ing his  wife  the  promised  divorce  ?" 

"I  don't  think  he  really  intended  to  give 
Mrs.  Felderson  a  divorce." 

"But  you  stated  that  he  consented  to  a 
divorce  ?" 

"He  did,  but  with  certain  reservations,"  I 
answered. 

"What  were  those  reservations  ?" 

"That  there  should  be  nothing  in  Mr, 
Woods*  past  that  could  cause  Mrs.  Felderson 
trouble  in  the  future,  in  case  she  married 
Woods." 

"Did  Mr.  Woods  know  of  Mr.  Felderson*s 
intention  not  to  divorce  Mrs.  Felderson  ?"  he 
demanded. 

"I  don't  know.    I  know  that  Mr.  Felderson 


170  S2   CALIBER 

had  made  an  important  discovery  about  Mr. 
Woods'  past  life." 

"Was  this  discovery  of  such  a  nature  as  to 
cause  Mr.  Felderson  to  refuse  a  divorce  ?" 

"It  was !"  I  answered. 

"Can  you  tell  the  jury  what  this  discovery 
was?" 

"No,  I  can  not." 

"Did  Mr.  Woods  know  that  Mr.  Felderson 
had  made  this  discovery?" 

"I  think  he  did." 

"Aren't  you  certain?" 

"No." 

"This  is  important,  Mr.  Thompson.  Will 
you  tell  the  jury  why  you  think  Mr.  Woods 
knew  of  Mr.  Felderson's  discovery?" 

"Because  Mr.  Woods  called  Mr.  Felderson 
up  shortly  after  the  discovery  was  made  and 
asked  for  an  interview  at  the  country-club." 

"Was  Mr.  Felderson  on  his  way  to  that 
meeting  when  he  met  his  death?"  the  attor- 
ney queried. 

"Yes,"  I  responded. 

"Do  you  know  whether  Mr.   Felderson 


^  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT       171 

intended  to  inform  Woods  that  he  would  not 
divorce  Mrs.  Felderson  ?" 

"I  think  he  intended  to  accuse  Woods  of 
dishonesty,"  I  replied. 

"Mrs.  Felderson  knew  the  purpose  of  the 
meeting,  did  she  not?" 

"I  couldn't  say." 

Kirkpatrick  turned  to  the  jury. 

"Has  the  jury  any  questions  they  wish  to 
ask?" 

I  seized  my  opportunity. 

"I  would  like  to  say  a  few  words  with  the 
permission  of  the  jury." 

Receiving  a  nod  of  consent,  I  related  to 
them  as  briefly  as  possible  my  conviction  of 
my  sister's  innocence,  her  cry  of  danger  to 
her  husband,  and  the  coincidence  of  the  black 
limousine  on  the  road  at  about  the  same 
time  as  the  tragedy.  I  also  told  of  the 
enmity  of  Zalnitch  for  Jim  and  of  his  pres- 
ence with  the  others  in  the  black  limousine. 
The  foreman  of  the  jury  leaned  forward. 

"Will  you  repeat  the  words  that  your  sister 
uttered?" 


172  32    CALIBER 

"She  cried,  'Look  out,  Jim !  It's  going  to 
hit  us!'" 

"Your  sister  was  delirious  at  the  time,  was 
she  not?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered.  "But  from  the  tone 
of  her  voice  I  feel  perfectly  sure  she  referred 
to  something  that  occurred  on  the  night  of 
the  tragedy." 

"You  think  she  referred  to  the  black 
limousine  when  she  said,  'It's  going  to  hit 
us'  ?"  the  foreman  continued. 

"Yes." 

"Yet  the  coroner's  verdict  was  that  your 
brother-in-law  was  killed  by  a  bullet,  fired, 
apparently,  from  behind  and  above." 

I  felt  the  weakness  of  my  ground. 

"The  bullet  might  have  been  fired  from  the 
automobile  and  ricochetted  from  some  part 
of  Mr.  Felderson's  machine." 

I  saw  the  incredible  smile  that  played  on 
the  face  of  the  prosecutor. 

"That  will  do,  Mr.  Thompson,"  Kirkpatrick 
announced,  and  I  passed  out  of  the  stuffy 
room  into  the  corridor.     Wicks  had  returned 


A  DOUBLE  INDICTMENT        173 

and  was  standing  with  Mary.  They  looked 
at  me  with  wide  and  anxious  eyes. 

Mary  saw  the  droop  in  my  shoulders  and 
caught  my  arm. 

"What  happened,  Warren?"  she  asked. 

"Nothing  yet,"  I  responded. 

"Are  they  going  to ?" 

"I  don't  know,  I  don't  know." 

Tears  welled  up  in  Mary's  eyes.  "Oh, 
Warren,  that  man  was  terrible !" 

"Whatman?"  I  asked. 

"The  man  who  asked  me  all  the  questions," 
Mary  sobbed.  "There  wasn't  anything  he 
didn't  ask  me." 

"Did  he  ask  you  about  the  conversation 
between  Helen  and  Jim?" 

"He  asked  me  everything,  I  tell  you!" 
Mary  exclaimed  angrily.  "He  twisted  and 
turned  everything  I  said  into  something 
horrible." 

Discouraged,  I  led  the  way  to  the  car.  I 
drove  out  into  the  country,  thinking  the  fresh 
air  might  quiet  Mary's  nerves.  Twice  I  tried 
to  start  a  conversation  about  some  trivial 


174  32   CALIBER 

thing,  to  take  her  mind  off  her  unpleasant 
experience  of  the  afternoon,  but  with  no 
success.  It  always  came  back  to  the  jury 
room.  Our  drive,  for  the  most  part,  was  a 
silent  one.  At  len^h  we  turned  back  and  as 
we  walked  up  the  steps  of  Mary's  home,  her 
father  came  from  the  house  with  a  news- 
paper in  his  hand. 

"This  is  terrible,  Warren." 

"What  is  it?"  I  cried,  reaching  for  the 
sheet. 

It  was  an  extra  edition  of  The  Press,  our 
only  respectable  paper.  In  black  head-lines, 
I  read  the  words : 

"SOCIETY  LEADER  INDICTED  FOR 
HUSBAND'S  MURDER!" 

Then  underneath  in  small  type : 

"Frank  Woods,  Well  Known  Business  Man, 
Released  on  $10,000  Bail." 

Helen  and  Frank  Woods  had  both  been 
indicted. 


I 


CHAPTER  TWELVE 

WHO  AM  I 

JUMPED  into  the  automobile  and  drove 
as  fast  as  I  could  to  the  offices  of  Simpson 
and  Todd,  the  best  criminal  lawyers  in  the 
state,  to  retain  them  as  council  for  Helen. 
Simpson  had  already  gone  home,  but  George 
Todd  was  there,  and  I  talked  the  case  over 
with  him, 

"You  can  get  a  stay  of  proceedings,  can't 
you?"  I  asked. 

"Surely,"  he  replied.  "I'll  see  that  the 
warrant  isn't  served  until  Mrs.  Felderson's 
doctor  assures  me  she  is  out  of  danger.  The 
trial  needn't  come  off  for  three  or  four 
months — six  if  you  wish.  We  can  see  to 
that.  In  the  meantime,  when  will  you  be 
able  to  see  Mrs.  Felderson  ?" 

"I  was  going  up  there  now,"  I  answered. 
"The  chances  are  the  doctor  won't  let  me 
question  her  yet,  but  it  may  be  we  can  see 
her.    Will  you  come  with  me?" 


176  32    CALIBER 

"I'd  like  very  much  to.  Wait  till  I  get  my 
coat!" 

We  ran  up  to  the  hospital  and  asked  if  we 
could  be  admitted  if  only  for  a  few  moments 
to  Mrs.  Felderson's  room.  Johnson,  the  little 
interne  with  the  glasses,  had  just  come  in, 
and  when  he  heard  my  request  he  was  splut- 
teringly  indignant. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  think  Mrs.  Felder- 
son  is  suffering  from,  a  broken  ankle  ?  Don't 
you  realize  she  has  been  desperately  ill?  If 
you  tried  to  question  her  now,  she'd  become 
excited  and  it  might  result  in  a  serious  re- 
lapse. Of  course  you  can't  see  her!  You 
won't  be  able  to  talk  to  her  for  two  or  three 
weeks  yet." 

"I'm  sorry,"  I  said,  "I  should  have  known 
better.  It  was  stupid  of  me,  but  then,  I've 
been  little  else  than  stupid  for  days.  This 
tragedy  has  been  too  much  for  me.  You  will 
let  me  know  as  soon  as  she  can  be  seen,  won't 
you,  Johnson?" 

"I'll  let  you  know,"  he  murmured.  "You 
may  be  able  to  see  her  to-morrow,  but  I  won't 


WHO  AM  I  177 

let  you  bother  her  with  any  infernal  ques- 
tions until  she  is  well.'* 

The  week  passed  only  too  slowly.  Each 
day  I  went  to  the  hospital  and  sat  for  a  brief 
fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  by  Helen's  side. 
She  was  fully  conscious  and  I  thought  I  could 
see  at  times  that  there  were  questions  she 
wanted  to  ask  me.  Remembering  the  doc- 
tor's emphatic  instructions,  I  said  very  little, 
never  asking  any  questions,  only  telling  her 
a  few  of  the  unimportant  happenings  of  the 
town.  She  seemed  uninterested  and  lay 
apathetically  quiescent  except  when  some 
apparently  perplexing  question  corrugated 
her  brows.  They  told  her  of  Jim's  death 
early  in  the  week,  but  far  from  being 
shocked,  she  had  appeared  almost  indifferent, 
showing  only  too  plainly  how  little  he  meant 
in  her  life.     Woods  she  never  referred  to. 

Mary,  of  course,  was  her  devoted  slave, 
hardly  leaving  her  bedside,  and  in  our  daily 
meetings  at  the  hospital,  I  fell  more  and  more 
in   love   with   her,   if   such   a   thing   were 


178  32    CALIBER 

possible.  Once  when  I  was  coming  up  the 
corridor  with  a  large  bunch  of  flowers,  I  met 
her  outside  Helen's  door.  As  she  took  the 
blooms  from  me,  she  reached  up  and  patted 
my  cheek. 

"Bupps,  you're  a  darling  to  bring  these 
lovely  flowers  to  Helen  every  day.  I  think 
you're  quite  the  nicest  brother  a  girl  could 
have." 

"If  you  think  that,  why  won't  you  have 
me?"  I  asked. 

"I  think  I  will "  she  answered,  smiling, 

"for  a  brother." 

She  started  to  open  the  door,  but  I  grasped 
her  hand. 

"Mary,  do  be  serious!  You  know  I  love 
you." 

She  haughtily  drew  herself  up  in  all  the 
majesty  of  her  five  feet  three  inches  and 
commanded:  "Unhand  me,  villain !  I  spurn 
your  tempting  offer."  Then  earnestly,  "Let 
me  go,  Bupps !  I've  got  to  put  these  flowers 
away." 

With  a  quick  wrench  sh6  freed  herself  and 


WHO  AM  I  179 

was  gone,  leaving  me  half  sick  with  love  of 
her. 

After  the  first  sensational  extra,  the  news- 
papers had  said  but  little  of  Helen's  and 
Frank's  indictment.  Somehow  I  was  confi- 
dent that  Helen  would  be  able  to  clear  herself. 
Woods  had  published  a  statement  in  which 
he  said  he  would  be  able  to  prove  where  he 
was  every  minute  of  the  evening  of  the 
tragedy,  and  so  had  had  no  difficulty  in 
finding  bail.  In  fact,  since  the  indictment, 
he  seemed  to  have  gained  a  good  deal  of 
sympathy  and  popularity.  Every  one  who 
knew  of  his  devotion  to  Helen  felt  that  he 
had  indicted  himself  to  try  to  save  her. 

One  morning,  about  a  week  after  my 
interview  with  the  be-spectacled  interne,  I 
met  Doctor  Forbes  as  he  was  coming  from 
Helen's  room  and  he  gave  me  permission  to 
ask  her  a  few  questions. 

"I'm  trusting  to  your  good  sense,  Thomp- 
son, not  to  overdo  it,"  Forbes  cautioned. 
"Remember,  she  is  still  in  a  very  weak 
condition  and  don't  be  surprised  if  she  fails 


180  32    CALIBER 

to  respond  to  your  questions  as  you  expect. 
Above  all  things,  do  not  refer  in  any  way  to 
the  fact  that  she  has  been  indicted,  the  shock 
might  be  too  much  for  her." 

"Thank  you,  Doctor,"  I  replied,  eager  to 
get  away,  "I'll  be  very  careful." 

"And  remember,  no  more  than  ten  minutes 
this  first  time." 

I  nodded  and  opened  the  door.  Helen  was 
propped  up  in  bed  and  showed  unmistakably 
the  great  suffering  she  had  been  through. 
She  was  pale  and  wan,  but  smiled  when  she 
saw  me  and  gave  me  her  cheek  to  kiss. 

"Good  morning,"  she  whispered.  "The 
flowers  were  lovely." 

"I'm  glad  you  liked  them.  Sis,  dear,"  I  said, 
sitting  down  by  the  side  of  her  bed. 

I  asked  her  the  usual  questions,  how  she 
felt  and  if  she  wanted  anything,  and  then 
tried  to  lead  up  to  the  only  question  that  was 
of  any  consequence  to  either  of  us. 

"Helen,  dear,  there  are  certain  questions 
about  your  accident  that  have  puzzled  ^s. 
The  doctor  said  that  you  could  talk  for  ten 


WHO   AM   I  181 

minutes  this  morning  and  I  want  to  ask  you 
some  questions." 

"Wait  a  minute!"  she  interrupted.  "Did 
the  doctor  say  I  might  really  talk  this 
morning?" 

"Yes,  dear." 

"There  are  a  hundred  questions  then  that 
you  must  answer  me.  I  want  to  know  so 
many  things."  She  looked  away  and  passed 
a  thin  hand  over  her  forehead.  Finally  she 
turned  her  big  brown  eyes  toward  me  and 
said: 

"First,  tell  me  who  I  am!" 

For  a  brief  second  I  felt  numb  all  through. 
My  brain  whirled  until  I  thought  my  head 
would  burst. 

"Helen,  dear,  what  did  you  say  ?" 

My  speech  was  thick,  as  though  my  tongue 
was  swollen.  Still  keeping  her  gaze  fixed  on 
me,  she  continued: 

"They  call  me  Helen,  and  I  gather  that  you 
are  my  brother.  There  is  a  beautiful  girl 
who  comes  here  every  day.  She  and  I  seem 
to  be  great  friends,  biit  I  don't  know  her, 


182  32    CALIBER 

I  have  heard  them  call  her  Mary ;  tell  me  who 
she  is!" 

If  I  could  have  run  from  the  room  I  should 
have  done  so.  A  horror  gripped  me  such  as 
I  never  felt  before.  Then  I  saw  two  large 
tears  tremble  in  Helen's  eyes,  overflow  and 
course  down  her  cheeks  and  I  gathered  all 
the  strength  that  I  could  muster  for  the  task 
of  trying  to  awaken  a  memory  that  had 
apparently  ceased  to  function. 

"Helen,  dearest  little  sister,  I  am  your 
brother.  The  beautiful  girl  you  speak  of  is 
Mary  Pendleton,  one  of  the  best  and  truest 
friends  you  ever  had.  She  was  your  brides- 
maid, don't  you  remember?'* 

Helen  shook  her  head  weakly. 

"I  have  been  married,  then?"  she  asked. 

"You  were  married  to  James  Felderson. 
Can't  you  remember  him?"  I  begged. 

Again  she  shook  her  head.  "No.  It's  all 
gone."  She  thought  hard  a  minute,  then  she 
asked :    "He  is  dead— my  husband  ?" 

"Yes,"  I  muttered,  trying  to  keep  the  tears 
back,  "he  was  killed  in  the  same  accident—" 


WHO  AM   I  183 

'*What  was  he  like?"  she  interrupted. 

"Helen,  think!"  I  cried,  fighting  blindly 
against  the  terror  that  was  choking  me. 
"Little  sister.  You  must  think — hard.  Jim. 
Don't  you  remember  big  handsome  Jim?" 
I  snatched  my  watch  from  my  pocket  and 
opened  the  back,  where  I  carried  a  small 
picture  of  Jim,  taken  years  before.  I  had 
put  it  there  in  boyish  admiration  when  I  first 
knew  him.  I  held  it  up  in  front  of  her  eyes, 
"You  must  remember  him,  Helen !" 

She  gazed  at  the  picture  with  eyes  in  which 
there  were  tears  and  a  little  fright,  but  not 
a  spark  of  recognition.  Fearing  that  I  was 
over-exciting  her,  I  sat  close  to  her  and  drew 
as  best  I  could  a  mental  picture  of  Jim.  I 
was  only  half-way  through  the  recital  when 
the  door  opened  and  Doctor  Forbes  came  in. 

"The  ten  minutes  are  up,  Mr.  Thompson." 

I  stooped  and  kissed  Helen. 

"Promise  that  you'll  come  back  to-mor- 
row," she  whispered. 

I  promised  and  hurried  from  the  room. 
Outside  the  doctor  awaited  me  questioningly. 


184  32    CALIBER 

"Her  memory  is  completely  gone!"  I 
gasped. 

The  doctor  patted  me  on  the  shoulder 
sympathetically. 

"We  suspected  that  day  before  yesterday. 
I  would  have  told  you  before,  but  thought 
that  your  questions  might  start  her  memory 
functioning." 

I  gripped  him  by  both  arms.  "But, 
Doctor,  can  nothing  be  done  ?  Will  she  have 
to — have  to  begin  all  over  again  ?" 

"I  can't  say  yet.  There  may  be  some 
pressure  there  still.  We'll  have  to  wait  until 
she  is  much  stronger  before  we  can  tell." 


CHAPTER  THIRTEEN 

WE  PLAN  THE  DEFENSE 

HELEN'S  loss  of  memory  was  the  last 
straw.  The  shock  of  finding  her  unable 
to  remember  the  most  familiar  things  was 
bad  enough  from  a  purely  physical  stand- 
point, but  when  I  realized  how  completely  it 
swept  away  all  my  plans  for  Helen's  defense, 
how  it  fastened  the  guilt  on  her  poor 
shoulders,  I  felt  that  our  case  was  hopeless 
indeed. 

I  drove  to  the  offices  of  Simpson  and  Todd 
and  was  lucky  enough  to  find  both  of  them 
in.  Simpson,  a  slender  man  with  steel-gray 
hair  and  eyes,  at  once  ordered  a  closed 
session  to  thrash  out  the  whole  affair.  He 
first  made  me  repeat  everything  I  knew  about 
Jim's  murder,  from  the  beginning.  Several 
times  he  interrupted  me,  to  ask  a  question, 
but  for  the  most  part  he  sat  with  his  back  to 
me,  gazing  out  of  the  window,  the  tips  of  his 
fingers  to  his  lips.  Half  the  time  I  thought 
185 


186  32   CALIBER 

he  wasn't  listening,  until  a  quick  question 
would  show  his  interest.  Todd,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  the  picture  of  attention.  He  took 
notes  in  shorthand  most  of  the  time  I  was 
talking.  When  I  had  finished,  Simpson  rose 
and  came  over  to  me. 

"Let's  examine  this  thing  from  the  start. 
You  have  three  people  who  had  a  motive  for 
killing  Felderson — Zalnitch,  Woods  and  Mrs. 
Felderson.  Let's  take  Zalnitch  first,  for  I 
think  suspicion  falls  the  slightest  on  him. 
You  say  that  Felderson  helped  to  convict  Zal- 
nitch in  the  Yellow  Pier  case  and  that  he 
made  vague  threats  against  those  who  had 
put  him  in  prison,  after  he  was  released. 
Good !  There's  a  motive  and  a  threat.  He 
was  seen  on  the  same  road  that  Mr.  Felderson 
traveled,  a  short  time  before  the  murder.  All 
those  facts  point  to  Zalnitch's  complicity. 
But — ^the  bullet  that  killed  Felderson  was 
fired  from  behind  and  above,  according  to  the 
coroner's  statement.  Knowing  the  average 
juryman,  I  should  say  that  we  would  have  to 
stretch  things  pretty  far  to  make  him  believe 


WE  PLAN  THE  DJ:FENSE      187 

that  a  shot  fired  from  one  rapidly  moving 
automobile  at  another  rapidly  moving  auto- 
mobile would  ricochet  and  kill  a  man.  That's 
asking  a  little  too  much.  Also,  it  is  hard  to 
believe  that  Schreiber,  who  was  driving  the 
car,  would  risk  a  smash-up  to  his  own  car 
and  possible  death  for  himself  and  party,  in 
order  to  try  to  make  Felderson  go  into  the 
ditch.  Then,  too,  if  Zalnitch  recognized 
Felderson's  car,  why  didn't  he  fire  point- 
blank  at  Felderson  instead  of  waiting  till  he 
got  past?  No!  The  case  against  Zalnitch 
falls  down.     We  can  strike  him  off  the  list." 

I  hated  to  give  him  up,  but  I  had  to  admit 
Simpson's  logic  was  faultless. 

"Now  let  us  take  up  the  case  of  Woods. 
Here  is  a  man  who  threatened  Felderson's 
life  unless  he  gave  his  wife  a  divorce,  which 
you  say  Felderson  did  not  intend  to  do.  There, 
again,  is  a  motive.  Woods  knew  that  Felder- 
son was  in  possession  of  certain  papers  that 
would  ruin  him.  There  is  a  stronger  motive." 
He  turned  to  me.  "By  the  way,  you  have 
those  papers,  haven't  you?" 


188  32   CALIBER 

I  hadn't  thought  of  them  until  that  very- 
minute. 

"I  don't  know  where  they  are  right  now, 
but  I'm  pretty  sure  I  can  find  them." 

He  nodded. 

"Get  hold  of  them  by  all  means!  They 
may  be  important  to  us."  He  lit  a  cigar  and 
threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

"Well,  let's  go  on.  Woods  had  all  the  mo- 
tive necessary  for  killing  Felderson.  He  made 
a  definite  engagement  with  Felderson  on  the 
night  of  the  murder,  to  meet  him  at  a  certain 
time  and  place  specified  by  Woods.  That's 
important.  Everything  up  to  that  point  is 
as  clear  as  crystal,  yet  you  say  you  have  pos- 
itive testimony  that  Woods  was  at  the  coun- 
try-club waiting  for  Felderson  at  about  the 
time  the  murder  took  place,  and  Woods 
claims  that  he  has  an  absolute  alibi.  If  that 
is  true,  it  lets  him  out." 

"But  I'm  not  sure  he  was  at  the  country- 
club  at  the  time  the  murder  took  place,"  I 
explained.  "I  only  know  he  was  there  just 
before  and  just  afterward." 


WE   PLAN   THE   DEFENSE      189 

"What  do  you  know  of  his  movements  that 
night?"  Simpson  asked. 

"I  know  he  dined  there  at  seven-thirty  or 
thereabouts  and  that  he  ordered  a  drink  at 
eight  twenty-five." 

"And  what  time  was  the  murder?" 

"Probably  about  a  quarter  past  eight — the 
bodies  were  found  at  half  past,  they  say,"  I 
answered. 

Simpson  shook  his  head.  "I'm  afraid  his 
alibi  is  good.  It's  cutting  things  too  fine  to 
think  that  he  could  have  run  six  miles  and 
back  in  less  than  half  an  hour  and  committed 
a  murder  in  the  bargain.  It  would  have  taken 
a  speedy  automobile.  Do  you  know  whether 
he  had  an  automobile  that  night?"  he 
queried. 

"I  think  he  did.  I  can  find  out  in  a  min- 
ute," I  added,  going  to  the  telephone. 

I  called  up  the  country-club  and  finally 
succeeded  in  getting  Jackson  on  the  wire. 
Jackson  thought  Mr.  Woods  did  not  have  an 
automobile  that  night,  because  he  had  gone 
to  town  in  Mr.  Paisley's  car. 


190  82   CALIBER 

**He  might  have  used  somebody  else's 
car,"  Todd  suggested. 

Simpson  shook  his  head  again.  "We're 
getting  clear  off  the  track,  now." 

An  idea  came  to  me  suddenly  and  I  called 
up  Pickering  at  the  Benefit  Insurance  Com- 
pany. 

"This  is  Thompson  speaking,  Pickering,"  I 
said. 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  remember  if  an  automobile  passed 
you  on  the  night  of  the  Felderson  murder, 
going  toward  the  country-club?" 

"No." 

"Do  you  mean  you  don't  remember?" 

^'No,  I  remember  perfectly.  There  was 
only  one  automobile  passed  us  and  that  was 
the  black  limousine." 

"You're  sure?"  I  asked. 

"I'm  positive,  old  man.  We  only  saw  one 
car  from  the  time  we  left  Blandesville,  until 
we  reached  the  city." 

I  put  up  the  receiver  and  sank  back  in  my 
chair. 


WE   PLAN  THE   DEFENSE      191 

'*Welir  Todd  flung  at  me. 

"I'm  out  of  luck !"  I  responded. 

Simpson  rose.  "Let's  go  on.  We  have 
crossed  off  two  of  our  suspects  from  the  list, 
let's  see — " 

"I'd  rather  not  go  on,"  I  interrupted,  look- 
ing out  of  the  window  to  escape  Todd's 
searching  eyes.  There  was  a  moment's  si- 
lence, then  Simpson  spoke. 

"We'll  do  our  best  but  it  will  be  a  hard 
fight.  If  Mrs.  Felderson  could  only  recall 
what  happened  that  night  and  before,  w^e 
might  have  a  chance,  but  every  woman  that 
has  come  up  for  murder  during  the  last  few 
years,  has  worked  that  lost  memory  gag." 

"But  my  sister  really  has  lost  her  mem- 
ory!"   I  exclaimed. 

"I  know,  my  dear  boy,"  Simpson  soothed. 
"That  is  what  makes  it  so  difficult.  If  she 
were  only  shamming  now,  we  could — .  But 
with  your  sister  as  helpless  as  a  child,  the 
prosecuting  attorney  will  so  confuse  her,  that 
our  case  will  be  lost  as  soon  as  she  takes  the 
stand." 


192  32   CALIBER 

"Why  put  her  on  at  all?"  I  asked. 

"Because  we  have  to,  if  we  hope  to  win  our 
case,"  he  replied.  "The  one  big  chance  to 
win  your  jury  comes  when  your  beautiful 
client  testifies." 

For  a  few  minutes  he  was  silent,  obviously 
thinking,  and  thinking  hard. 

"Of  course,  our  defense  will  have  to  be 
temporary  insanity,"  he  declared  at  last. 

"Oh,  not  that!"  I  begged. 

"It's  our  only  chance,"  Simpson  argued, 
"and  I  don't  mind  saying  that  it's  a  pretty 
poor  chance  at  that.  Three  years  ago  it 
might  have  been  all  right,  because  a  convic- 
tion only  meant  a  few  months  at  a  fashion- 
able sanitarium,  and  then  freedom.  But  when 
that  Truesdale  woman  went  free,  an  awful 
howl  went  up  all  over  the  country  and  I'm 
afraid  the  next  woman  who  is  found,  'guilty 
but  insane,'  will  be  sent  to  a  real  asylum." 

A  shudder  of  horror  ran  through  me.  For 
Helen  to  be  sent  to  an  asylum  while  her 
mind  was  in  its  weak  state  might  well  mean 
permanent  insanity. 


WE   PLAN  THE   DEFENSE      193 

"You  talk  to  your  sister  as  often 
as  you  can  and  try  to  help  her  recover  her 
lost  memory.  Of  course  you'll  have  the  best 
specialists  examine  and  prescribe  for  her.  In 
the  meantime,  we'll  investigate  both  the 
Woods  and  Zalnitch  cases  to  see  if  they  are 
hole-proof." 

"You  might  get  those  papers  on  Woods, 
if  you  will,"  Todd  reminded  me. 

I  thanked  them  and  left,  greatly  depressed 
but  ready  to  fight  to  the  last  ditch  to  save 
Helen's  life.  The  papers  dealing  with  Woods 
had  not  been  among  Jim's  effects  when  I  had 
looked  them  over  at  the  office  and  I  was  con- 
fident they  had  not  been  picked  up  on  the 
night  of  the  murder,  for  they  would  have 
been  returned  to  me.  Thinking  they  had 
probably  been  left  in  one  of  the  pockets  of 
the  automobile,  and  overlooked  when  the 
machine  was  searched,  I  decided  to  run  out  to 
the  Felderson  home  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning. 


CHAPTER  FOURTEEN 

BULLET  PROOF 

JIM'S  car  had  been  moved  to  his  own  ga- 
rage the  morning  after  the  accident,  and 
as  I  had  a  pass-key  to  the  place  I  found  it  un- 
necessary to  go  to  the  house  at  all.  Wicks 
and  Annie  were  taking  care  of  the  establish- 
ment until  Helen  should  come  home,  or  the 
house  be  sold. 

I  opened  the  door  of  the  garage  and  shud- 
dered involuntarily  as  I  caught  sight  of  the 
wrecked  Peckwith-Pierce.  It  had  been  more 
badly  smashed  than  I  had  at  first  supposed. 
On  the  night  of  the  murder  I  saw  that  the 
chassis  was  twisted  and  the  axle  broken,  but 
I  had  not  noticed  what  that  jolting  crash  had 
done  to  the  body  of  the  car.  The  steering 
rod  was  broken  and  the  cushions  were  caked 
with  mud.  One  wheel  sagged  at  a  drunken 
angle  like  a  lop-ear  and  the  wind-shield  was 
nothing  but  a  mangled  frame.  One  long  gash 
ran  the  length  of  the  body,  as  though  it  had 
194 


BULLET  PROOF  195 

scraped  against  a  rock,  and  this  gash  ended 
in  a  jagged  wound  the  size  of  a  man's  head. 
In  the  back  were  three  small  splintered  holes. 

I  examined  these  with  particular  interest, 
wondering  what  could  have  caused  them.  Evi- 
dently the  police  had  neglected  to  examine 
the  machine.  The  sight  of  what  looked  like 
the  end  of  a  nail  caused  me  to  drop  to  my 
knees  and  to  begin  digging  frantically  at  the 
wood  with  my  pen-knife.  At  the  end  of  five 
feverish  minutes  I  held  the  prize  in  my  hand. 

It  was  a  misshapen,  steel,  "32"  rifle  bullet. 

In  the  floor  of  the  car,  near  where  Jim's 
feet  must  have  been,  I  found  two  more 
splintered  holes,  apparently  made  by  the 
same  rifle  from  which  the  shots  had  been 
fired  into  the  back  of  the  car. 

Two  thoughts  flashed  through  my  mind, 
exuberant  assurance  that  this  latest  discov- 
ery cleared  Helen  completely.  She  couldn't 
have  fired  a  rifle  from  the  rear  seat  of  the 
automobile,  nor  could  she  have  put  those  bul- 
let holes  into  the  back  of  the  car.  In  my  joy 
that  I  had  found  proof  of  my  sister*s  inno- 


196  32    CALIBER 

cence,  I  forgot  to  speculate  on  who  could  have 
committed  the  murder.  My  second  thought 
was  really  a  continuation  of  the  first,  that  I 
must  bring  the  coroner  and  Simpson  at  once 
to  confirm  my  discovery. 

I  carefully  locked  the  door  of  the  garage, 
as  though  fearful  some  one  would  rob  me  of 
my  find,  or  that  the  automobile  might  move 
away  of  its  own  volition,  then  I  ran  to  the 
house  and  rang  the  bell.  All  the  curtains 
were  drawn  and  I  had  about  decided  there 
was  no  one  at  home,  when,  after  what  seemed 
an  interminable  wait,  I  heard  the  sound  of 
footsteps  within,  and  Wicks  opened  the  door. 

"Who'd  you  expect  to  see,  Wicks,  a  police- 
man?"   I  asked. 

"No,  sir.  One  of  those  blarsted  reporters, 
sir." 

"Poor  old  Wicksy,"  I  sympathized.  "Well, 
it'll  soon  be  over  now.  I  want  to  use  the  tele- 
phone." 

I  ran  down  the  hall  to  the  table  where  I 
knew  the  telephone  to  be,  and  called  up  Simp- 
son.   He  promised  he  would  come  right  up. 


BULLET  PROOF  197 

The  coroner  demurred  for  a  moment,  plead- 
ing important  business,  but  when  he  heard 
I  had  proof  that  would  clear  Mrs.  Felderson, 
he,  too,  promised  to  be  with  me  in  a  few 
minutes. 

Wicks,  who  had  been  listening,  was  so  ex- 
cited that  he  momentarily  forgot  himself  and 
clutched  me  by  the  arm  as  I  put  down  the 
receiver. 

"Is  it  true,  sir,  that  you  can  prove  Mrs. 
Felderson  *ad  nothing  to  do  with  it?"  he 
gasped. 

"Truest  thing  you  know,  Wicks !" 

"I  fear  I'm  going  to  act  unseemly,  sir.  I 
feel  like  yelling,  'ip,  'ip,  sir."  Then  he  no- 
ticed he  had  me  by  the  arm  and  hastily  mur- 
mured apology. 

"That's  all  right,  Wicksy,  old  top.  Go  as 
far  as  you  like,"  I  cried.  "I'm  so  happy  and 
relieved  I  could  kiss  the  Kaiser." 

"You  surely  wouldn't  do  that,  sir,"  Wicks 
reproved. 

"All  right.  Wicks.  I  guess  it's  not  being 
done  this  year." 


198  32   CALIBER 

The  butler  turned  to  leave  but  stopped  at 
the  door  to  say:  "Mr.  Woods  called  about  a 
week  ago,  sir." 

"What  did  he  want?"  I  demanded. 

"He  stated  as  'ow  'e  was  after  some  papers 
concerning  a  business  deal  that  *e  and  Mr. 
Felderson  were  interested  in." 

In  the  excitement  over  my  discovery,  I 
had  completely  forgotten  the  real  errand  that 
had  brought  me  to  the  house. 

"What  did  you  tell  him,  Wicks?" 

"I  told  'im  that  you  had  charge  of  all  Mr. 
Felderson's  effects,  sir,  and  that  he  could 
probably  obtain  them  from  you,"  the  butler 
replied. 

"That  was  right.  Did  he  leave  after  that?" 

"Shortly  after  that,  sir,"  Wicks  answered. 
"But  first  he  asked  for  the  key  to  the  garage, 
sayin*  that  'e  would  like  to  hinspect  the  auto." 

"Did  you  give  it  to  him?"    I  snapped. 

*T-yes,  sir.    I  saw  no  'arm  in  that,  sir." 

I  ran  to  the  garage  and  quickly  searched 
the  broad  pockets  of  Jim's  car.  The  port- 
folio was  not  there.    I  hurrie4  toward  the 


BULLET  PROOF  199 

house  to  ask  Wicks  if  Woods  had  had  any 
papers  with  him  when  he  returned  the  garage 
key,  but  slackened  my  pace  before  I  had  gone 
half-way.  After  all,  it  made  very  little  dif- 
ference. The  evidence  had  only  been  gath- 
ered to  keep  Helen  with  her  husband.  Now, 
since  that  was  no  longer  an  issue,  what  did 
it  matter  if  Woods  had  stolen  the  proofs  of 
his  own  dishonesty.  True,  Simpson  and  Todd 
had  asked  me  to  get  them,  but  I  felt  that 
they  had  urged  the  importance  of  those  pa- 
pers more  to  give  me  something  to  do  than 
for  any  real  need  of  them. 

Just  then  an  automobile  came  up  the  drive 
and  Simpson  jumped  out.  He  was  gravely 
skeptical  until  I  led  him  into  the  garage  and 
showed  him  the  bullet  holes;  then  he  was 
enthusiastic.  He  examined  the  back  of  the 
car  minutely,  and  at  the  end  of  his  scrutiny 
he  turned  to  me. 

"I'm  not  at  all  sure  that  we  were  justified 
in  giving  Zalnitch  a  clean  bill  of  health  so 
soon.  It  is  just  possible  he  had  a  lot  more 
to  do  with  this  than  we  supposed." 


200  32    CALIBER 

While  we  were  talking  the  coroner  drove 
up»  He  took  the  bullet  I  had  extracted  from 
the  back  of  the  car  and  looked  at  it  as  though 
he  expected  to  find  its  owner's  name  etched 
on  it,  after  which  he  examined  the  holes  in 
the  back  of  the  car  and  in  the  foot-board. 
Then  I  eagerly  related  our  suspicions  against 
Zalnitch,  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"This  would  seem  to  clear  Mrs.  Felderson 
but  it  also  makes  it  look  as  though  every 
other  suspect  is  innocent.  Look  at  these 
holes  in  the  floor!  The  bullets  that  lodged 
there  must  have  been  fired  from  above.  Also 
you  will  notice  there  are  three  bullet  holes  in 
the  back  of  the  car  and  two  in  the  foot-board, 
besides  the  shot  that  killed  Mr.  Felderson. 
Unless  your  friends,  the  Socialists,  were  car- 
rying a  young  armory  with  them,  they  could 
never  have  fired  that  many  shots  in  the  short 
space  of  time  that  it  took  Mr.  Felderson  to 
pass  them.  I  should  say  that  it  would  take  a 
man  from— well,  from  fifteen  to  thirty  sec- 
onds, at  least,  to  fire  six  shots  at  any  target, 


BULLET  PROOF  201 

and  before  that  time,  the  automobile  would 
have  been  out  of  range." 

"He  might  have  used  an  automatic  rifle,"  I 
interposed. 

The  coroner  took  off  his  hat  and  rubbed 
the  bald  spot  on  the  back  of  his  head. 

"That  is  possible,"  he  admitted,  "but  it 
doesn't  explain  how  those  bullet  holes  got 
into  the  floor.  There  might  have  been  a 
struggle  and  the  gun  discharged  into  the  floor 
that  way." 

"That  doesn't  explain  the  holes  in  the  back 
of  the  car,"  I  objected,  fearing  that  they 
would  again  go  back  to  the  theory  that  Helen 
was  responsible. 

"The  holes  in  the  foot-board  seem  to  me 
positive  proof  that  the  shots  were  fired  from 
above,"  Simpson  argued.  "Are  there  any 
buildings  or  trees  along  that  road  where  the 
murderer  might  have  stationed  himself  and 
waited  for  Felderson  to  come  along?" 

"There  are  no  buildings,"  I  replied,  "but 
there  must  be  trees  in  the  vicinity  of  that 
stream." 


202  32   CALIBER 

"That  sounds  as  though  it  might  bring  re- 
sults," Simpson  said.  "Thompson,  suppose 
you  take  the  coroner  out  there  and  see  what 
you  can  find.  In  the  meantime  I'll  start  pro- 
ceedings to  quash  that  indictment  against 
Mrs.  Felderson." 

The  coroner  insisted  he  was  due  at  an  in- 
quest that  very  moment,  but  would  go  with 
me  in  the  afternoon.  As  we  walked  toward 
the  cars,  Simpson  asked  me  if  I  had  found 
the  papers  dealing  with  Woods'  case,  and  I 
told  him  I  thought  Woods  had  stolen  them 
and  repeated  the  information  Wicks  had 
given  me. 

"I  don't  think  we  shall  need  them,  fortu- 
nately," Simpson  replied.  "Todd  saw  Woods 
last  night.  He's  making  a  frantic  effort  to 
raise  money  and  came  to  him,  among  others. 
He  says  that  Woods  can  clear  himself  of  all 
connection  with  the  crime.  Men  who  were 
with  him  that  night  can  testify  he  didn't 
leave  the  club.  By  the  way.  Woods  hasn't 
approached  you,  has  he?" 

"No,"  I  laughed,   "he  knows  I  have  no 


BULLET  PROOF  203 

money,  and  if  I  had  I  wouldn't  give  it  to 
him." 

After  they  had  left,  I  decided  to  go  out  to 
the  Blandesville  bridge  and  do  a  little  prelim- 
inary scouting  on  my  own.  Eager  for  Mary's 
company,  and  wishing  to  tell  her  the  glorious 
news  that  was  to  clear  Helen,  I  drove  to  the 
hospital,  only  to  find  that  Mary  had  not  been 
there  and  Helen  was  asleep ;  so  I  drove  on  to 
Mary's,  hoping  to  find  her  home. 

"Miss  Pendleton  is  just  going  out,  but  I 
will  ask  if  she  will  see  you,"  the  maid  in- 
formed me. 

I  stepped  into  the  living-room  and  picked 
up  a  magazine.  As  I  took  it  in  my  hand  it 
fell  open  to  a  story  entitled,  "Who  Murdered 
Merry  vale  ?"  I  looked  at  one  of  the  illustra- 
tions and  quickly  laid  the  magazine  down, 
conscious  that  I'd  never  again  read  a  mystery 
story  built  around  a  tragic  death.  Then  I 
heard  Mary's  light  step  pattering  down  the 
stairs  and  turned  to  greet  her.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  smart,  semi-military  costume 
which  she  had  worn  while  a  volunteer  chauf- 


204  32   CALIBER 

feur  during  the  war,  and  she  looked  simply 
radiant. 

"Mary,  we've  made  certain  discoveries 
which  absolutely  clear  Helen  of  suspicion," 
I  cried,  taking  her  hands  in  mine.  I  told  her 
of  my  find  of  the  morning,  and  watched  her 
eyes  widen  with  joy  and  surprise.  "So,  while 
we  haven't  found  out  yet  who  murdered  Jim, 
we  know  that  Helen  had  no  part  in  it." 

Mary  was  thinking  hard  about  something, 
but  she  recalled  herself  quickly,  and  said: 

"Oh!  It's  wonderful,  Bupps,  simply  won- 
derful!" 

"I'm  going  out  to  the  Blandesville  bridge 
to  do  a  little  sleuthing  on  my  own  hook.  Can 
you  come  with  me?" 

"I'm  sorry,  but  I  can't,  Warren.  I  have 
another  engagement,"  she  answered. 

"Some  other  man?"  I  asked,  disappointed 
and  a  bit  jealous. 

"Yes." 

"Is  it  that  young  Davis?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"It's  some  one  you  don't  like  very  well:" 


BULLET   PROOF  205 

"That's  natural,"  I  replied.  "I  don't  love 
any  of  my  rivals.    Who  is  it  ?" 

"Promise  you  won't  say  anything  if  I  tell 
you  who  it  is  ?" 

"Of  course  I  won't  say  anything,"  I  said  a 
little  haughtily.  "You  have  a  perfect  right 
to  go  with  any  one  you  care  to." 

"It's  Frank  Woods." 

"Mary,"  I  gasped,  "do  you  mean  to  say 
you'd  be  seen  with  that  man,  after  what  he 
did  to  Jim?" 

"Now,  Bupps,  you  promised  not  to  say  any- 
thing." 

"I  know — but  this  is  different.  Do  you 
think  I'll  stand  quietly  by  and  see  that  man 
make  a  fool  of  you  as  he  did  of  Helen  ?  Do 
you  think  I'll  let  that — that  rake  make  love 
to  you?" 

"He's  not  going  to  make  love  to  me !"  Mary 
answered  with  some  asperity. 

"That's  what  you  think.  That's  what  Helen 
thought  and  Jim  thought.  That's  what  all 
of  them  think  when  he  starts.  Do  you  know 
what  he  wants  to  do?    He  asked  you  to  go 


206  32   CALIBER 

out  with  him  so  he  could  try  to  borrow 
money  of  you,  to  save  his  rotten  hide." 

"But,  Bupps,  he  didn't  ask  me  to  go  riding 
with  him.    I  asked  him  to  take  me." 

"You  asked  him  to  take  you?"    I  cried. 

"Don't  talk  so  loud,  Bupps !  The  people  on 
the  street  will  hear  you." 

If  there  was  anything  she  could  have  said 
that  would  have  made  me  angrier  than  I  al- 
ready was,  it  was  that. 

"I'm  not  talking  loud,"  I  shouted,  "and 
what  if  I  do?  The  people  on  the  street  may 
hear  me,  but  they  will  s&e  you  with  Frank 
Woods,  which  is  a  hundred  times  worse.  Why, 
it  is  as  much  as  a  girl's  reputation  is  worth 
to  be  seen  alone  with  him." 

"I'll  take  care  of  my  reputation,"  she  re- 
plied coldly. 

"You  think  you  will,"  I  said,  flinging  my- 
self into  a  chair. 

"Warren!  Do  you  know  that's  insulting?" 
Mary  exclaimed  angrily.  "You're  acting 
like  a  schoolboy.  I  have  good  reasons  for 
wanting  to  go  out  with  Frank  Woods." 


BULLET  PROOF  207 

"Reasons !"  I  sneered. 

She  went  into  the  hall  and  I  followed. 

"Mary,  I  don't  know  what  your  reasons 
are,  and  I  don't  care.  Fm  not  going  to  have 
that  man  making  love  to  you.  Either  you 
don't  go  out  with  him,  or  I  quit." 

Mary  turned  and  looked  me  straight  in  the 
eyes. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  she  asked. 

"Any  girl  who  is  Frank  Woods'  friend, 
after  the  mess  he  stirred  up  in  my  family, 
isn't  my  friend." 

Mary's  face  was  white,  but  her  little  chin 
was  set  determinedly. 

"That's  just  as  you  wish,"  she  said,  and 
ran  up-stairs. 

I  picked  up  my  hat  and  gloves  and  left  the 
house. 


CHAPTER  FIFTEEN 

THE   ANSWER 

THE  coroner  and  I  drove  out  to  the  bridge 
that  afternoon  and  I  must  admit  I  was 
mighty  poor  company.  Mary's  unreason- 
ableness, her  stupid  obstinacy,  when  she 
knew  she  was  wrong  and  I  was  right,  her 
willingness  to  break  our  friendship  at  the 
first  opportunity,  gave  me  little  room  to  think 
of  anything  else. 

That  she  should  risk  her  reputation  to  run 
after  that  man  was  inexplicable,  but  it  was 
just  like  a  woman.  Show  them  a  place  they 
must  not  go  or  a  man  they  must  not  see  and 
they  will  sacrifice  life,  liberty  and  everybody 
else's  happiness  to  satisfy  their  curiosity.  It 
has  been  true  from  Pandora  to  Pankhurst. 

Well,  if  she  could  get  along  without  me,  I 
could  get  along  without  her.  I'm  the  easiest 
going  person  in  the  world,  but  when  it  comes 
to  allowing  the  girl  you  are  practically 
engaged  to,  to  make  a  fool  of  herself  over 
208 


THE  ANSWER  209 

another  man,  I  won't  stand  for  it.  I  knew 
she  would  probably  come  to  me  afterward 
and  say  she  was  sorry  and  she  didn't  know, 
but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  she  would  have 
to  give  me  an  awfully  good  reason  for  her 
sudden  interest  in  Frank  Woods  before  I 
would  forgive  her. 

These  thoughts  held  my  attention  all  the 
way  out.  Now  and  again  I  would  be  recalled 
from  my  gloom  by  some  question  from  the 
coroner.  He  was  trying  to  solve  the  problem 
of  who  murdered  Jim  and  I  am  sure  he  must 
have  thought  it  strange  that  I  was  so  pre- 
occupied. 

As  we  neared  the  bridge,  I  noticed  again 
how  scant  the  vegetation  was  on  both  sides 
of  the  road.  Any  one  wishing  to  murder 
Jim  would  have  been  able  to  see  him  coming 
for  at  least  a  half-mile.  On  the  left  of  the 
road  was  clay  soil,  sparsely  covered  with 
weeds  and  shrubs,  while  a  half-mile  away 
could  be  seen  the  thirteenth  hole  of  the 
country-club  golf  links. 

When  we  reached  the  crest  of  the  hill  lead- 


210  32    CALIBER 

ing  down  to  the  bridge,  our  eyes  at  once 
caught  sight  of  a  tall  maple  tree,  on  the  right- 
hand  side  of  the  road  and  about  two  hundred 
yards  from  it. 

As  he  saw  it  the  coroner  gave  a  grunt  of 
satisfaction. 

"There's  our  tree." 

We  stopped  the  car  and  scrambled  through 
the  thorny  bushes  that  lined  the  road.  The 
ground  was  hard  clay  with  only  burdock  and 
weeds  growing  on  it.  There  was  nothing 
that  would  lead  us  to  believe  that  any  one  had 
been  there  before.  When  we  reached  the 
tree,  the  coroner  examined  the  ground 
around  it  carefully.  When  he  arose  he 
seemed  disappointed. 

"What  did  you  expect  to  find  here?"  I 
asked. 

"I  didn't  know  what  we  might  find.  If 
the  man  who  fired  those  shots  used  this  tree, 
I  thought  we  might  find  an  empty  cartridge 
or  two.  There  ought  to  be  at  least  some 
broken  twigs  or  something  to  show  that  he 
was  up  there,  but  I  find  nothing  at  all." 


THE  ANSWER  211 

"Still,  the  fact  that  the  tree  is  where  it  is, 
makes  the  theory  plausible." 

He  shook  his  head.  "No.  Now  that  I've 
seen  how  far  we  are  from  the  road  I  don't 
think  it  does.  Those  bullet  holes  in  the  back 
of  the  car  were  fired  from  above  and  behind 
the  machine.  They  slanted  down  but  not 
sidewise.  If  a  tree  had  been  at  the  very 
side  of  the  road,  our  theory  would  be  accept- 
able, but  if  the  murderer  used  this  tree,  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  road,  he  would  have 
started  firing  before  the  car  came  opposite, 
with  the  probability  that  the  holes  would 
have  been  found  in  the  side  of  the  car.  I'm 
sorry,  for  when  I  saw  this  tree,  I  thought 
we'd  struck  the  right  track." 

"There's  one  thing  I  can't  make  out,"  I 
stated,  "and  that  is  the  strange  cry  of  my 
sister  in  her  delirium.  'Look  out,  Jim !  It's 
going  to  hit  us,'  she  called  out,  and  I  would 
be  willing  to  swear  it  had  something  to  do 
with  the  murder." 

The  coroner  thought  a  moment,  then 
turned  to  me. 


212  32   CALIBER 

"What  else  did  she  say?" 

"Nothing  that  seemed  to  refer  to  the  acci- 
dent. All  the  rest  was  apparently  delirium. 
She  begged  forgiveness  for  some  fancied 
wrong,  and  repeated  that  a  certain  man  was 
not  guilty  of  dishonesty.  But  her  first  weird 
cry  had  to  do  with  the  murder,  I'm  sure." 

We  walked  back  toward  the  road  together. 
High  overhead  we  heard  the  droning  of  an 
aeroplane  and  we  both  stopped  to  gaze  at  it. 
Suddenly  the  coroner  clapped  me  on  the 
shoulder. 

"I've  got  it!" 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked,  bewildered. 

"An  aeroplane,  man!  Who  owns  an 
aeroplane  around  here?" 

"I  don't  know.  There  are  several  at  the 
aviation  grounds.  What's  that  got  to  do 
with  it?" 

'*Every thing!  Don't  you  see?  The  bullets 
fired  from  above  and  behind.  The  number 
of  bullets  fired.  Those  two  bullet  holes  in 
the  foot-board  of  the  car — everything  points 
to  an  aeroplane.    It  was  done  a  hundred,  yes, 


THE  ANSWER  213 

a  thousand  times  in  the  war.  While  I  was 
over  there  with  my  hospital  unit  we  used  to 
get  a  lot  of  cases  of  motorcycle  despatch 
riders  who  had  been  picked  off  by  German 
aviators.  They  machine-gunned  moving 
trains  and  military  automobiles.  It  is  one 
of  the  simplest  tricks  of  a  pilot's  repertoire. 
Has  Woods  an  aeroplane  ?" 

"He  was  a  military  pilot  in  the  French 
•  army  and  is  the  head  of  an  aeroplane  firm, 
V)ut  I  don't  think  he  has  an  aeroplane  here." 

"He  could  get  one  easy  enough." 

"The  clever  devil !  Look  over  there !  He 
had  the  broad  sweep  of  the  golf  course  as  a 
perfect  landing  ground  and  this  road  hasn't 
a  tree  on  it  for  a  mile.  He  could  have  come 
down  within  fifty  feet  of  the  ground  and 
followed  that  car,  pumping  bullets  into  it  all 
the  way.  He  had  absolutely  everything  in 
his  favor." 

For  a  moment  I  saw  red  as  I  pictured  Jim, 
helpless  before  approaching  death.  I  could 
imagine  Helen's  agony  as  she  saw  that  dim 
black   shape   come   closer   and    closer   an4 


214  32   CALIBER 

screamed  in  her  terror,  "Look  out,  Jim !  It's 
going  to  hit  us." 

"Yes,  but  how  are  we  going  to  prove  it?" 
I  asked. 

"That's  up  to  us  now.  An  aeroplane  has 
such  speed  that  it  was  easy  for  Woods  to 
fashion  an  ingenious  alibi  to  account  for 
every  minute  of  his  time  on  the  night  of  the 
murder,  but  there  must  be  some  holes  in  it; 
there  always  is  in  a  manufactured  alibi.  I 
want  you  to  go  over  to  the  country-club  and 
check  up  Mr.  Woods*  schedule  of  that  night 
while  I  examine  the  golf  links  to  see  if  he 
landed  there." 

We  jumped  into  my  car  and  drove 
rapidly  to  the  club.  I  went  into  the  house  by 
the  back  way  to  avoid  meeting  people  and 
asked  for  Jackson. 

"Jackson,  what  time  did  Mr.  Woods  get 
out  here  on  the  evening  Mr.  Felderson  was 
killed?" 

"Ah  espect  he  got  heah  *bout  six  o'clock, 
Mistuh  Thompson,"  the  negro  replied. 

"Did  you  see  him  at  that  time  ?" 


THE  ANSWER  215 

"Did  Ah  see  him  at  dat  time?  Le'me  see? 
Why,  no,  suh.  Ah  don'  think  Ah  did." 

"When  was  the  first  time  you  did  see  him, 
Jackson?" 

"Ah  guess  it  was  at  dinnah  time,  suh.  He 
was  heah  den." 

"You're  sure  he  was  here  all  through  din- 
ner?" I  asked. 

"Yes,  suh !  He  must  hab  been,  'cause  he 
ohdahd  dinnah." 

"What  time  was  he  through  dinner,  do  you 
know?" 

The  darky  scratched  his  head.  "Ah 
reckon  it  war  just  befoh  he  ohdahd  me  ter 
bring  him  dat  drink." 

"And  he  was  here  all  that  time?"  I  de- 
manded. 

"Yes,  suh !     He  was  right  heah." 

"Where  did  he  sit?" 

"Lemme  see.  Ah  recollec'  now,  he  ask  me 
speshul  fo'  dat  table  ovah  yondah  by  de 
winder." 

"Can  you  find  the  boy  that  waited  on  that 
table  that  night?" 


216  32   CALIBER 

The  old  darky  hurried  away,  but  came 
back  presently  leading  a  scared  yellow  boy 
by  the  sleeve. 

"Now,  Geoge  Henry,  you-all  quit  youah 
contrahiness  an'  ansuh  de  genleman's  ques- 
tions o'  Ah  'low  Ah  whup  you." 

"George,  did  you  wait  on  that  table  over 
there  by  the  window  two  weeks  ago  ?" 

" Ya-yas,  suh !  Ah  ben  waitin'  on  dat  table 
fo'  mo'n  a  month." 

"Do  you  remember  waiting  on  Mr.  Frank 
Woods  two  weeks  ago  last  Thursday  night?" 
I  asked. 

The  boy  was  trembling.  He  rolled  fright- 
ened eyes  toward  Jackson  who  was  glaring  at 
him.  Finally  he  broke  into  a  wail.  "Oh! 
Pappy  Jackson,  da's  all  Ah  knows.  He  tell  me 
he  go  to  de  bah  an'  ef  n  anybuddy  ask  whah 
he  go  dat  night  to  sen*  em  in  dah." 

"Just  tell  me  what  you  know,  George !"  I 
said,  motioning  the  angry  Jackson  away. 

"He-he  set  down  at  de  table  but  he  ain't  eat 
none,"  the  boy  stuttered. 

"What  do  you  mean,  George  ?" 


THE  ANSWER  217 

"He  sit  down  an'  look  out  de  winder.  Ah 
brung  him  some  soup  but  he  got  up  powful 
sudden,  lak  he  had  a  call  to  de  telephome,  an* 
he  ain't  come  back." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that,  George  ?" 

"Yas,  suh,  Ah  ast  him  did  he  want  dinnah 
aftah  he  come  back  but  he  say  he  ain't  hon- 
firry." 

"What  time  was  it  when  he  came  back  ?"  I 
asked. 

"Ha'f  past  eight,  suh." 

I  gave  the  boy  a  dollar  and  he  went  away 
happy.  Jackson  had  a  sheepish  look  on  his 
face. 

"Then  Mr.  Woods  wasn't  here  all  through 
dinner,  Jackson  ?" 

"Drat  dat  boy,  he  make  me  out  a  liah  fo'  a 
dollah,"  he  grinned. 

"Are  you  sure,  absolutely  sure,  that  you 
saw  Mr.  Woods  at  half  past  eight?"  I  ques- 
tioned. 

"Yas,  suh !  You  cain't  catch  me  up  no  mo*. 
I  saw  Mistuh  Woods  at  eight  twenty-f ahv  ex- 
ackly." 


218  32   CALIBER 

I  handed  him  a  bill  and  went  into  the  bar. 
Grogan,  the  old  bartender  was  there  alone. 

"Grogan,  do  you  remember  who  was  in  the 
bar  between  seven-thirty  and  eight-thirty  on 
the  night  of  the  Felderson  murder?" 

"Only  one  or  two  of  the  gentlemen,  sir. 
There  was  Mr.  Famsworth  and  Mr.  Brown 
and  I  think  Mr.  Woods." 

"Are  you  sure  Mr.  Woods  was  in  here?" 

"Well,  no,  sir,  not  exactly.  I  remember  Mr. 
Famsworth  and  Mr.  Brown.  There  were 
probably  some  others.  The  reason  I  think  Mr. 
Woods  was  here  was  because  he  called  my 
attention  to  the  fact  a  few  nights  after  the 
murder.  There  were  a  few  gentlemen  in  here 
and  they  were  talking  of  Mr.  Felderson's 
death.  Mr.  Woods  said,  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  the  murderer  hadn't  been  found,  almost 
any  one  might  be  accused.  Some  one  asked 
him  if  he  was  worried — ^we  all  knew,  sir,  that 
Mr.  Felderson  and  Mr.  Woods  were  not  very 
friendly — and  Mr.  Woods  laughed  and  said 
that  fortunately  he  had  a  perfect  alibi  and 
,  called  my  attention  to  the  fact  that  he  was  in 


THE  ANSWER  219 

here  at  about  the  time  the  crime  was  com- 
mitted." 

"And  you're  not  sure  that  he  was?"  I 
asked. 

"Oh,  his  alibi  is  good  of  course,  because  he 
was  around  the  club  all  that  evening.  I  guess 
he  was  here  and  I  don't  remember  it.'* 

I  shook  hands  with  him  and  left. 

Far  out  on  the  golf  links  the  coroner  was 
bending  over,  examining  something  on  the 
ground.  When  I  reached  him  he  grabbed  me 
by  the  sleeve  and  pointed  to  two  barely  dis- 
cernible tracks  paralleling  each  other  for  al- 
most a  hundred  yards.  Between  them  ran  a 
shallow,  jagged  rut,  where  the  spade  of  an 
aeroplane  had  dug  up  the  turf. 


CHAPTER  SIXTEEN 

THE  MECHANICIAN 

«TT  TE'VE  got  it!    We're  on  the  trail  at 

VV  last!"  I  exclaimed.  "I  just  found  out 
at  the  club  that  Woods  left  his  dinner  hur- 
riedly and  was  not  seen  again  until  twenty- 
five  minutes  past  eight." 

'•WeVe  got  to  go  slow,"  'cautioned  the  coro- 
ner. "A  man  who  is  ingenious  enough  to  de- 
vise this  means  of  murdering  a  man  won't  be 
tripped  up  for  lack  of  a  perfect  alibi." 

"I've  found  what  that  is  too.  He  has  the 
bartender  at  the  club  half  believing  that  he 
was  in  the  bar  at  the  time  the  murder  was 
committed."  I  told  him  briefly  what  I  had 
discovered. 

"See!"  the  coroner  pointed  out.  "If  they 
bring  him  into  court,  the  bartender  won't  be 
able  to  swear  he  wasn't  in  the  bar  and  the 
short  time  that  he  was  absent  will  convince 
the  jury  that  Woods  is  telling  the  truth  and 
that  our  theory  is  all  bunk." 
220 


THE   MECHANICIAN  221 

"But  we're  not  going  to  leave  things  as 
they  stand,  just  when  we  are  hot  on  the  trail. 
What  do  we  do  now?" 

"I'm  of  the  opinion  that  there  is  a  short-cut 
to  the  solution  of  the  whole  affair.  Woods 
must  have  had  a  mechanician  with  him  on 
the  night  of  the  murder." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  I  asked 
rather  impatiently. 

"Because  we  know  Woods  came  back  to  the 
club  immediately  after  the  murder  and 
played  cards  the  rest  of  the  evening.  He 
returned  to  the  city  in  another  man's  car; 
obviously,  then,  some  one  else  must  have 
taken  the  aeroplane  back  to  its  hangar,  since 
it  would  have  caused  too  much  comment  had 
it  been  on  the  links  in  the  morning.  Our 
plan,  then,  is  to  find  that  mechanician  and 
bribe  or  threaten  him  into  telling  the  truth. 
If  Woods  hasn't  got  rid  of  him,  he  ought 
to  be  around  the  aviation  grounds.  We  must 
wait  until  we  are  certain  Woods  is  not  there 
before  trying  to  see  our  man." 

"Then  there  is  no  better  time  than  right 


222  32   CALIBER 

now,  for  I  know  Woods  is  taking  a  certain 
young  lady  automobiling  this  afternoon." 

"Let's  go  quickly  then,"  exclaimed  the 
coroner. 

We  climbed  into  the  car  and  sped  toward 
the  city.  Since  Eastbrook  is  on  the  aerial 
postal  route,  we  have  a  well-equipped  aviation 
field  just  outside  the  city.  Several  of  our 
younger  set  with  special  sporting  proclivities 
have  taken  up  aerial  joy-riding  since  the  war, 
so  that  there  is  always  a  group  of  mecha- 
nicians and  hangers-on  around  the  field. 

I  proposed  to  the  coroner  that  we  stop  for 
Simpson  and  he  agreed.  When  Simpson 
heard  who  it  was  he  came  down  at  once.  As 
we  sped  toward  the  aerodrome  I  told  him  of 
our  findings  of  the  afternoon.  He  was 
astounded. 

"You  know,  ril  hand  it  to  the  man  who 
thought  up  that  scheme.  That's  the  clever- 
est piece  of  work  I  ever  heard  of,  if  your 
theories  are  correct  and  he  really  did  do  it." 

"What  makes  you  think  Woods  didn't  do 
it?"  I  questioned. 


THE  MECHANICIAN  223 

"Not  a  thing,"  Simpson  answered,  "only  I 
didn't  know  Woods  kept  a  plane  in 
Eastbrook.  Of  course,  it  would  be  easy- 
enough  for  him  to  get  one.  Lord !  Think  of 
the  possibilities  it  opens  up.  It  fairly  takes 
your  breath  away.  Automobile  bandits  aren't 
in  it.  Imagine  trying  to  cope  with  a  gang  of 
thieves  who  add  an  aeroplane  to  their  kit  of 
tools.  Suppose  they  decide  to  rob  the 
Guarantee  Trust  Company  of  New  York  or 
Tiffany's.  The  robbery  itself  would  be  the 
simplest  part  of  the  thing.  It  is  getting  the 
swag  away  that  worries  the  criminals.  Sup- 
pose they  pull  this  robbery  off  and  the  police 
put  a  net  around  the  city  to  guard  against 
their  escape.  Mr.  Thief  and  his  gang  sail 
away  calmly  over  the  heads  of  the  police. 
Think  of  your  diamond  smugglers!  Why, 
that  big  British  dirigible  could  have  flooded 
the  American  market  with  diamonds  and 
laughed  in  the  face  of  the  customs  authori- 
ties.    I  say  it  gets  you." 

"Yes,  but  in  the  meantime,  we  get  Mr. 
Woods,"  I  said  grimly. 


224  32    CALIBER 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that!"  Simpson 
warned.  "The  man  who  thinks  up  such  a 
scientific  way  of  murdering  people  isn't  going 
to  be  an  easy  man  to  catch." 

Memories  of  big  whole-hearted  Jim  came 
to  my  mind  and  I  swore  I  would  get  Woods  if 
I  had  to  hang  for  it.  Woods — murderer  of 
Jim,  after  stealing  his  wife  away,  and  now 
making  love  to  Mary  Pendleton,  putting  his 
bloody  hands  on  her!  The  thought  almost 
drove  me  mad. 

We  stopped  our  machine  at  the  entrance  to 
the  field  and  walked  toward  the  hangars. 
Three  aeroplanes  were  out,  being  tuned  up. 
They  looked  like  birds,  ready  to  take  wing  at 
the  slightest  disturbance.  The  coroner 
walked  over  to  one  of  the  helpers. 

"Can  you  direct  me  to  the  hangar  Mr. 
Frank  Woods  uses  V* 

''Woods?"  the  man  repeated  with  a  puzzled 
frown.  "I  don't  remember  any  such  machine 
here.  I  know  most  of  'em,  but  I  don't  think 
any  Woods  has  a  machine  here.  Wait !  I'll 
ask  Bill.     He'd  know  if  any  one  did." 


THE  MECHANICIAN  225 

He  walked  over  to  a  group  of  mecha- 
nicians and  returned  in  a  moment. 

"It's  the  last  one  down.  He  ain't  had  a 
machine  here  only  two  weeks.  That's  the 
reason  I  didn't  know  the  name." 

We  thanked  him  and  started  for  the  other 
end  of  the  field.  A  pilot  climbed  into  one  of 
the  machines.  Two  mechanicians  spun  the 
propeller  and  the  engine  sputtered  and 
roared.  The  plane  wabbled  and  swayed 
drunkenly  out  on  to  the  field,  then  as  the  roar 
increased,  it  gathered  speed  and  was  off. 

At  the  door  of  the  Woods  hangar,  a  red- 
haired  mechanic  of  powerful  build  was 
cleaning  and  oiling  some  delicate-looking 
piece  of  mechanism.  He  looked  up  with  a 
questioning  frown  as  we  approached,  then 
became  engrossed  again  in  his  work. 

"Is  this  where  Mr.  Woods  keeps  his 
aeroplane?"  the  coroner  asked. 

"Un-hu,"  grunted  the  mechanician,  contin- 
uing with  his  work. 

"Mr.  Woods  isn't  here,  is  he?" 

"No,'*  was  the  laconic  reply. 


226  ,    32   CALIBER 

"Are  you  Mr.  Woods'  mechanician  ?" 

"One  of  'em,"  the  red  one  responded.         , 

"How  many  has  he  ?'* 

"Three." 

"Are  the  others  about?"  continued  the 
coroner. 

"One  of  'em  is,"  said  the  mechanic,  "and  he 
just  loves  to  answer  fool  questions." 

The  coroner  laughed.  "Excuse  me,  my 
friend,  but  I  am  in  need  of  some  important 
information.  Will  you  tell  me  which  one  of 
the  mechanicians  was  with  Mr.  Woods  when 
he  visited  the  country-club  two  weeks  ago 
last  Thursday  night?" 

The  mechanic  scrambled  to  his  feet  and 
advanced  toward  the  coroner,  his  face  twisted 
with  passion.  For  a  moment  I  thought  he 
was  going  to  attack  us,  but  he  stopped  a  foot 
in  front  of  the  coroner  and  snarled :  "I  don't 
know  who  you  are,  nor  what  you  are,  nor 
what  you  want,  but  I  ain't  no  information 
bureau — See?  So  git  t'  hell  out  o*  here  if 
you  know  what's  good  for  you !"  With  that 
he  turned  and  disappeared  inside  the  hangar. 


THE   MECHANICIAN  227 

We  looked  at  one  another.  The  signs 
seemed  propitious. 

"Would  it  do  any  good  to  try  to  bribe  him  ?" 
I  asked. 

"You  can  try  it  if  you  want  to ;  I  don't  care 
for  the  job,"  Simpson  smiled. 

"No,"  the  coroner  interposed.  "He  was 
with  Woods  that  night  and  he  won't  talk." 

"Shouldn't  we  get  the  police?"  suggested 
Simpson. 

"That  wouldn't  do  any  good,"  the  coroner 
replied.  "Wait  a  minute !  I  think  I've  got 
it."     And  with  that  he  went  inside. 

Above  us  we  heard  the  hum  of  a  plane. 
We  turned  to  watch  it  dip  and  glide  and  loop, 
in  the  afternoon  sunlight.  The  sun,  catching 
its  wings,  made  it  stand  out  against  the  blue 
sky  like  some  fiery  dragon-fly.  It  flew  up, 
turned  a  somersault  and  nose-dived  for  a 
thousand  feet,  swung  around  in  a  wide  circle, 
flew  across  the  field  at  about  four  hundred 
feet,  circled  again  and  slid  downward.  Closer 
and  closer  it  came  to  the  ground,  until  the 
horizon  was  lost  and  it  seemed  to  be  gliding 


228  32    CALIBER 

along  the  earth  itself  at  terrific  speed. 
Finally  it  nosed  up,  touched  the  earth, 
bounced  away  as  though  it  were  a  rubber 
ball,  touched  again,  and  at  last  came  to  a 
stop  within  a  hundred  yards  of  where  we 
were  standing. 

A  girl  climbed  from  it,  and  with  a  sicken- 
ing clutch  at  my  heart  I  recognized  who  it 
was.  Mary  had  been  aeroplaning  with 
Woods  instead  of  automobiling  as  I  had  sup- 
posed. At  the  sight  of  her,  laughing  gaily 
at  some  witticism  that  Woods  made  as  they 
walked  across  the  field  toward  us,  my  head 
spun  with  hatred  and  jealousy  of  the  man. 

I  had  no  time  to  observe  more,  for  there 
were  angry  shouts  within  the  hangar  and  the 
coroner  came  bounding  out,  with  the  red- 
haired  mechanician  close  behind  him.  The 
coroner  had  in  his  hand  what  looked  like  an 
iron  crow-bar,  and  as  the  mechanician  caught 
him,  this  bar  became  the  center  of  the 
struggle.  We  hurried  to  the  coroner's  aid, 
but  before  we  could  reach  him,  the  mecha- 
nician gave  him  a  vicious  kick  in  the  stomach 


THE  MECHANICIAN  229 

that  sent  him  sprawling  and  helpless.  With 
a  curse,  the  mechanic  picked  up  the  tool  they 
had  been  struggling  for  and  dashed  back  into 
the  hangar. 

The  coroner  lay  writhing  where  he  had 
fallen,  and  could  not  speak.  His  breath  was 
completely  knocked  out.  We  pumped  his 
arms  until  at  last  he  was  able  to  gasp :  "Get 
that !     Get  that !" 

"It  looks  as  though  you  had  a  little  dis- 
agreement here,"  a  laughing  voice  sounded 
behind  us.  "This  isn't  at  all  my  idea  of  a 
hospitable  reception  for  my  guests." 

We  all  turned  to  look  into  the  smiling  face 
of  Woods.  As  we  helped  the  coroner  to  his 
feet  and  began  brushing  him  off  Woods  con- 
tinued: "Gentlemen,  if  you  are  going  to 
present  me  with  the  key  to  the  city,  please 
make  it  as  unostentatious  as  possible."  His 
smile  still  continued,  but  there  was  an  odd 
glint  in  his  eyes.  Mary  had  left  his  side  and 
was  walking  away.  She  had  evidently  seen 
me  and  did  not  want  to  speak  to  me. 

The   coroner   cleared   his   throat.     "Mr. 


280  32   CALIBER 

Woods,  I'm  not  here  to  make  any  presenta- 
tion speeches.  I  am  here  to  accuse  you  of  the 
murder  of  James  Felderson." 

Not  for  an  instant  did  the  smile  leave 
Frank  Woods'  face,  nor  did  his  expression 
change.  He  looked  us  over  calmly  and  slowly 
and  then  he  said :  "Why,  that  is  very  inter- 
esting, but  you  seem  to  forget  that  I  have 
already  been  accused  of  that  murder  once.'* 

"You  were  accused  on  mere  suspicion  be- 
fore, but  now  we  have  the  proof." 

The  red-haired  mechanic  sauntered  out  of 
the  doorway  and  walked  over  toward  the 
aeroplane.  Behind  him  followed  another 
youth  with  a  bunch  of  waste  in  his  hand. 
The  coroner  pointed  to  the  former. 

"I  had  the  machine  gun  with  which  you 
did  the  murder  until  your  man  there  kicked 
me  in  the  stomach  and  jerked  it  away  from 
me.  It's  in  the  hangar  now.  But  we  don't 
need  the  gun,  we've  got  enough  evidence 
without  it  to  convict  you." 

Woods  looked  us  over  carefully.  He  was 
by  far  the  calmest  one  of  the  party. 


THE  MECHANICIAN  231 

"Gentlemen,  I  have  already  sent  to  the  pa- 
pers a  statement  that  I  am  able  to  produce 
testimony  as  to  my  whereabouts  during 
every  minute  of  the  night  when  James  Fel- 
derson  was  killed.  When  the  trial  comes,  I 
shall  produce  that  testimony.  If  you  think 
that  machine  gun  is  any  proof  against  me, 
just  step  inside  and  I'll  show  you  that  it  is  of 
an  entirely  different  caliber  from  the  gun 
that  killed  Felderson." 

We  hesitated  for  a  second,  I  think  because 
of  the  brazen  effrontery,  the  splendid  calm- 
ness of  the  man.  A  doubt  began  to  form  in 
my  mind  as  to  whether  he  had  anything  to 
do  with  the  murder  at  all.  Woods  noticed 
my  hesitation  and  turning  to  me  said  with  a 
smile:  "Surely  you  aren't  afraid  of  me, 
Thompson,  when  you  so  readily  trust  me 
with  both  your  sister  and  your  fiancee." 

I  longed  with  all  my  soul  to  hit  the  man 
between  the  eyes,  to  crush  that  half-sneering 
smile  into  his  face  with  my  heel,  but  I  let  the 
insult  pass  and  followed  the  others  inside. 

"Here  is  the  machine  gun,  gentlemen.    If 


232  32   CALIBER 

you  will  notice,  it  is  a  36  caliber  and  not  a 
32  at  all.  If  you  will  wait  one  minute,  I'll 
get  you  the  magazine.  That  will  prove  it  to 
you  beyond  a  doubt." 

He  left  the  hangar  and  the  coroner  picked 
up  the  gun. 

**I  could  have  sworn  that  the  gun  I  had 
hold  of  was  a  32.  The  barrel  seems  too  small 
for  a  36.  Why,  look  here!  This  is  a  32. 
Here  is  the  caliber  marked  on  it." 

From  outside  came  the  sputter  and  crack 
of  an  aeroplane  engine.  Simpson  caught  it 
first  and  dashed  to  the  door. 

"It's  Woods'  plane.    He's  going  to  escape." 

We  ran  out  of  the  hangar  and  across  the 
field  toward  the  aeroplane  which,  by  now,  was 
enveloped  in  blue  vapor.  Before  we  had  gone 
half-way,  it  was  taxi-cabbing  across  the  field, 
careening  first  to  one  side  and  then  to  the 
other.  Suddenly  it  swerved  and  turned  in 
our  direction.  We  stood  there,  a  little  breath- 
less, to  see  what  it  would  do.  The  engines 
of  the  plane  droned  higher  as  it  came  toward 

U9. 


THE  MECHANICIAN  233 

Suddenly  Simpson  clutched  my  arm  and 
yelled:  "Look  out!  he's  trying  to  run  us 
down." 

I  ran  wildly  to  one  side  of  the  field,  not 
daring  to  look  back  but  only  trying  to  reach 
a  place  of  safety.  The  sound  of  the  engines 
came  crashing  to  my  ears  like  the  staccato 
roar  of  a  hundred  machine  guns.  My  legs 
felt  as  if  they  were  lead.  I  seemed  to  be 
standing  still.  One  frightened  glance  over 
my  shoulder  showed  the  machine,  like  some 
monstrous  vulture,  bearing  down  on  me.  I 
could  feel  it  gaining  and  gaining.  The  heavy 
drone  of  the  engines  seemed  to  fill  the  air 
with  its  noise.  A  pitiful  sense  of  helpless- 
ness gripped  me.  I  knew  I  was  going  to  die 
like  a  rat  in  the  jaws  of  a  fox  terrior.  I 
screamed  aloud  in  my  terror  and  pitched 
headlong  on  the  turf.  With  a  roar,  and  a 
rush  of  wind  that  almost  lifted  me  from  the 
ground,  the  aeroplane  passed  over  me,  its 
wheels  no  more  than  four  feet  from  my  head. 

I  am  not  sure  to  this  day,  whether  Frank 
Woods  tried  to  kill  me  or  not.    I  don't  know 


234  32   CALIBER 

whether  he  was  cheated  of  his  game  when  I 
stumbled  and  the  speed  of  his  motor  carried 
the  plane  off  the  ground,  or  whether  he  was 
just  trying  to  put  the  fear  of  God  in  me.  I 
will  swear,  however,  that  as  the  motor  passed 
over  my  head,  I  heard  Frank  Woods'  voice 
raised  in  a  demoniacal  laugh. 

As  the  drum  of  the  motor  passed  and  I 
knew  that  I  was  safe  for  the  moment,  I 
raised  my  head  to  see  if  the  devil  should  be 
planning  to  come  back.  With  joy  I  saw  he 
had  risen  to  the  height  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
feet.  Suddenly  the  plane  swooped  up  as 
though  Woods  were  trying  to  loop.  For  a 
second  it  tipped  sidewise  like  a  cat  boat  reel- 
ing over  in  the  wind,  and  then  there  was  the 
sound  of  splintering  wood  and  tearing  silk, 
and  the  plane  crashed  miserably  to  the 
ground. 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 
RED   CAPITULATES 

WE  HURRIED  over  to  the  smashed 
plane,  the  coroner  leading.  Woods,  in 
his  effort  to  run  me  down,  had  forgotten  the 
telegraph  wires  at  the  end  of  the  field.  Too 
late,  he  had  seen  them  and  vainly  tried  to  lift 
his  machine  clear  of  them.  The  wires  had 
caught  a  wing  and  sent  him  crashing  to  the 
earth. 

We  found  him  underneath  the  engine, 
quite  dead,  the  fall  having  killed  him  in- 
stantly. We  made  an  improvised  litter  out 
of  one  of  the  wings  and  carried  him  to  the 
nearest  hangar.  As  we  placed  an  overcoat 
over  the  shapeless  form,  I  heard  a  sniffle 
behind  me  and  found  the  red-haired  mecha- 
nician at  my  side. 

"You  didn't  get  him,  you  dirty  cops.  He 
got  away  from  you,  after  all." 

"Yes,  he's  safe  now,"  I  murmured. 

"Sure !  An'  he  would  'a'  been  always  if  he 
235 


236  32   CALIBER 

hadn't  been  daff *  over  women.  He  never  had 
no  luck  when  he  played  the  women.  His 
takin'  that  skirt  out  this  afternoon  was  what 
give  him  the  hoodoo." 

The  coroner  came  over  to  him. 

"Now  that  we  can't  get  him,  will  you  tell 
us  about  the  night  Mr.  Woods  killed  Mr.  Fel- 
derson  ?" 

The  mechanic  showed  himself  distinctly 
hostile  to  the  coroner. 

"Oh,  no  you  don't,  you  fly  cop !  Think  I'll 
spill  the  beans  and  get  meself  in  Dutch? 
You  can  go  to  hell !" 

"I'll  promise  you  won't  be  prosecuted  if  you 
will  tell  us  what  happened  that  night." 

He  looked  us  over  suspiciously,  but  appar- 
ently reassured,  he  said:  "Well,  that's  fair 
enough,  especially  since  I  didn't  have  nothin' 
to  do  with  the  croakin*,  although  I  know  pret- 
ty much  how  it  happened. 

"The  boss  there  come  over  to  the  plant — 
the  International  plant,  you  know — about  two 
weeks  ago  and  had  me  bring  that  plane  out 
there  over  here.     We  always  got  along  to- 


RED  CAPITULATES  237 

gether,  the  boss  and  me.  Wasn't  pals  or 
anything  like  that,  but  we  understood  each 
other.  I'd  seen,  for  a  couple  of  months,  that 
the  boss  had  somethin'  on  his  mind.  I  knew 
it  wasn't  any  jane,  because  they  never  wor- 
ried him  none.  He  worried  them  a  lot,  but 
somehow  he  just  took  'em  as  they  come.  He 
talked  with  me  some — he  claimed  I  was  the 
best  mechanician  he  had  over  there, — and  I 
figured  it  out  at  last  that  what  he  was 
worryin*  about  was  money.  He  spent  a  lot, 
an*  was  free  an'  easy,  an'  it  worried  him  to 
figure  that  he  was  goin'  to  go  bu'st  pretty 
soon.  The  first  day  I  was  here,  he  brought 
a  woman  out,  a  swell  looker — I  didn't  find  out 
till  afterwards  that  it  was  Felderson's  wife — 
an'  he  kinda  kidded  her  along  about  helpin' 
him  over  the  rough  spots  by  lendin'  him  a 
little  of  her  dough.  I  sort  of  figured  out 
he  was  goin'  to  run  off  with  the  woman, 
'cause  the  next  morning  he  come  out  and 
said  we  could  take  a  month's  lay-off  if  we 
wanted  to,  as  he  was  goin'  on  his  honeymoon. 
I  thought  he  was  goin'  to  take  me  along,  but 


288  32    CALIBER 

when  he  said  that,  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
beat  it  back  to  the  plant  to  keep  from  goin' 
bugs  watchin'  them  other  guys  callin'  their- 
selves  mechanics,  tinkerin'  around  them 
other  busses  when  they  didn't  know  their 
job.  It's  a  darn  wonder  more  of  these  fool 
dudes  out  here  ain't  been  killed. 

"Somethin'  must  'a'  slipped  up,  because  he 
come  out  late  that  afternoon  cussin'  like  the 
devil.  He  had  one  whale  of  a  temper  when  he 
got  started,  the  boss  did.  He  took  me  with 
him  in  the  buss  and  we  cruised  around  the 
country  for  a  while.  Every  time  he  spotted 
a  straight  stretch  of  road  without  too  many 
trees,  he'd  come  down  and  look  it  over.  Final- 
ly we  found  that  straight  stretch  of  road  out 
by  the  golf  links  at  the  country-club,  an*  that 
must  'a'  suited  him  'cause  that  was  the  only 
place  we  come  to  after  that.  He  mounted 
that  machine  gun  in  there  on  the  plane,  an'  it 
was  then  I  decided  he  was  a-goin'  to  slip  some- 
pin  over  on  somebody.  He  didn't  take  me 
with  him  after  that,  but  two  or  three  times 
when  he  come  into  the  field  he'd  swoop  down 


RED  CAPITULATES  289 

on  that  there  square  target  he  made  and  put 
over  in  the  comer  and  I'd  hear  the  ratti-tat- 
tat  of  that  machine  gun  a-goin'.  I  ast  him 
what  was  he  goin'  to  do  with  it  an*  he  said: 
'We're  a-goin'  out  one  of  these  nights  and 
kill  a  skunk/ 

"The  afternoon  of  the  night  we  went  out 
to  the  country-club  he  come  out  here,  kind  of 
excited,  but  cool,  if  you  know  what  I  mean. 
You  could  see  they  was  somethin*  on  his 
mind,  but  just  the  same  he  had  his  head  with 
him  every  minute.  Get  me  ?  He  told  me,  as 
soon  as  it  begin  to  get  dusk,  to  take  the 
plane  out  to  the  countr^'^-club  and  land  on  the 
links,  about  a  half  a  mile  from  the  club 
house,  an*  when  I  got  there  to  flash  my  pocket 
lamp,  until  I  see  him  light  a  cigarette  on  the 
club-house  porch.  I  done  as  he  told  me,  an* 
he  come  out.  He  wasn't  dressed  in  a  jumper, 
but  just  had  a  cap  an'  a  rain-coat  over  his 
clothes.  He  told  me  to  stay  there,  and  after 
I  started  the  engine,  he  streaked  away.  He 
left  about  eight  o'clock  and  was  back  in  fif- 
teen minutes.    He  slipped  me  a  fifty  and  told 


240  32    CALIBER 

me  to  take  the  plane  back  an'  to  forgit  'at 
I'd  brought  it  out.  I  ast  him  had  he  killed 
his  skunk  an*  he  laughed  an*  said,  *I  made  him 
pretty  sick  anyway.*  I'd  told  the  boys  to  have 
the  flares  out  at  the  park  as  I  was  a-goin' 
to  test  the  machine,  so  I  didn't  have  no 
trouble  in  landin'.** 

He  stopped  and  rolled  a  cigarette. 

"That's  all  you  know,  is  it?"  the  coroner 
asked. 

"That's  all  I  know,  so  help  me  Henry — 
but  ain't  it  enough  ?" 

He  looked  around  at  the  three  of  us  who 
had  been  listening  intently  to  his  story. 

"I  should  say  it  is,**  said  Simpson. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEEN 

I  LISTEN  TO  MY  FOREBEARS 

HELEN  had  come  home.  She  preferred 
living  with  mother  and  myself,  rather 
than  opening  up  Jim's  house,  which  she  had 
been  told  belonged  to  her.  Yes,  her  memory 
of  past  events  was  still  gone,  and  each  night  I 
sat  with  her  and  repeated  bits  here  and  there 
of  the  experiences  through  which  she  had 
lived.  Every  now  and  then  a  thought  would 
come  to  her  and  she  would  be  able  to  fill  in 
parts  of  the  narrative,  but  this  was  seldom. 
In  a  way,  it  was  fortunate,  for  I  was  able  to 
leave  out  all  the  sordid  details  of  her  past  and 
give  her  only  the  recollections  worth  keep- 
ing. As  soon  as  she  is  quite  strong,  Doctor 
Forbes  is  going  to  reconstruct  the  tragedy 
for  her,  and  he  says  he  has  every  reason  to 
believe  that  he  will  be  successful  in  restoring 
her  memory.  In  the  meantime,  she  is  en- 
tirely happy  and  content,  and  more  beautiful 
than  ever. 

241 


242  32    CALIBER 

Mary  had  not  spoken  to  me  for  a  month. 
Somehow  we  could  not  get  together.  I  real- 
ized how  hasty  and  peremptory  I  had  been 
in  commanding  her  not  to  go  with  Woods, 
and  I  tried  in  a  thousand  different  ways  to 
make  her  realize  that  I  was  sorry.  Whenever 
I  found  we  were  to  be  invited  to  the  same 
dance  or  supper  party,  I  lay  awake  half  the 
night  before,  planning  how  I  would  approach 
her;  what  she  would  say  and  what  I  would 
say.  It  was  a  delightful  game  to  play,  be- 
cause I  always  came  out  the  victor.  I  made 
her  say  and  do  just  the  things  that  would 
make  a  reconciliation  easy,  but  when  we 
actually  met,  it  was  vastly  different. 

We  were  both  invited  to  the  Rupert- 
Smiths'  ball,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
before  the  evening  was  over,  I  would  be  back 
in  her  good  graces,  on  the  same  old  footing. 
As  much  as  I  hated  being  treated  like  a 
younger  brother,  it  was  far  better  than  being 
treated  like  a  stepchild. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  her  come  into  the  ball- 
room, I  hurried  toward  her,  but  at  that  mo- 


1  LISTEN  TO  MY  FOREBEARS  243 

ment  the  orchestra  began  a  fox-trot  and  she 
whirled  away  in  the  arms  of  young  Davis, 
smiling  into  his  face  as  though  she  adored 
him.  Davis  holds  a  girl  so  tightly  that  it  is 
actually  indecent,  but  she  seemed  to  enjoy  it. 

I  was  by  her  side,  almost  before  the  music 
stopped,  but  she  turned  away  without  looking 
in  my  direction  and,  literally  hanging  on 
Davis'  arm,  made  her  way  from  the  ball- 
room. 

I  finally  caught  her  alone  while  she  was 
waiting  for  some  yokel  to  get  her  a  glass  of 
punch. 

•  "Mary,  may  I  have  a  dance?"  I  blurted 
out. 

"I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Thompson,  but  my  pro- 
gram is  full,"  she  answered  sweetly — too 
sweetly. 

"But  there  aren*t  any  programs,"  I  in- 
sisted. 

"Nor  have  I  any  dances  left,"  she  count- 
ered. 

"Mary,  I'm  awfully  sorry — " 

"Oh!    There    you    are,    Mr.    Steel,"    she 


244  32   CALIBER 

laughed  over  my  shoulder,  "I  almost  thought 
you  had  forgotten  me."  I  fled,  leaving  that 
ass.  Steel,  cooing  the  most  puerile  rot  about 
how  he  couldn't  forget  her  and  so  forth. 

I  called  up  Anne  McClintock  before  the  Mc- 
Clintock  dinner  and  begged  her  as  my  guar- 
dian angel  to  put  me  next  to  Mary.  She 
agreed  on  condition  that  she  could  put  that 
Sterns  woman,  the  parlor  Bolshevic,  on  the 
other  side  of  me.  I  consented,  and  through 
the  entire  dinner,  Mary  talked  to  old  Grand- 
father McClintock  about  the  labor  disputes 
although  she  doesn't  know  the  difference  be- 
tween a  strike-out  and  a  lock-out.  She  ac- 
tually seemed  perfectly  contented  to  shout 
into  that  old  man's  ear  all  evening,  though  I 
did  everything  to  get  her  attention  except 
spill  my  plate  in  her  lap.  Afterward  I  heard 
her  telling  that  Sterns  woman  what  a  charm- 
ing couple  we'd  make.  I  tried  to  call  on  Mary 
twice  and  both  times  she  was  out — to  me. 

Finally  people  began  to  see  that  there  was 
a  serious  difference  between  us  and  they 
avoided  inviting  us  to  small  parties  together, 


I  LISTEN  TO  MY  FOREBEARS  245 

so  that  I  saw  her  at  only  the  largest,  most 
formal  and  most  stupid  functions. 

I  had  told  Helen  one  day  that  I  would  be 
late  to  dinner  on  account  of  an  important 
case.  About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
however,  I  found  that  a  certain  book  I  needed 
was  at  the  house,  so  I  jumped  into  the  car 
and  went  up  after  it.  Mary's  electric  was 
out  in  front.  For  a  moment  I  contemplated 
flight,  Mary  so  obviously  disliked  me,  but  be- 
ing determined  that  no  girl  in  the  world  could 
keep  me  from  going  where  I  pleased,  I  trotted 
up  the  steps. 

The  door  opened  just  as  I  reached  the 
porch,  and  disclosed  Mary  hastily  saying 
"Good-by"  to  Helen.  The  sight  of  her  leav- 
ing, so  as  to  avoid  meeting  me,  angered  me 
and  some  piratical  old  forebear  of  mine 
came  down  from  above  or  came  up  from 
below  at  that  moment  and  perched  on  my 
right  shoulder. 

"Treat  *em  rough !"  he  whispered. 

I  hurried  over  to  the  door,  walked  in  and 
slammed  it  after  me. 


246  82   CALIBER 

Helen  laughed  and  said:  "Warren,  dear, 
aren't  you  getting  noisy?" 

"Helen,"  I  said,  "will  you  please  go  into 
the  other  room  ?" 

"Helen,  stay  here !"  Mary  ordered. 

"I  shall  do  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 
I  shall  go  up-stairs."     She  turned  to  leave. 

"If  you  go,  Helen,  I'll  go  with  you,"  Mary 
announced. 

Another  ancestral  spook  with  dwarfed, 
hairy  body  and  gorilla  arms,  climbed  to  my 
left  shoulder,  sat  down  on  his  hunkers  and 
whispered  in  my  ear:     "Treat  'em  rough!" 

"You're  going  to  stay  right  here !"  I  com- 
manded, grabbing  her  by  the  hand. 

"Let  go  of  my  hand !"  Mary  demanded.  "I 
am  not  going  to  stay  here." 

The  sight  of  her  sweet  indignant  face 
made  my  heart  jump  to  my  throat.  Helen 
laughed  and  went  up-stairs. 

"Mary — "  I  began,  my  voice  softening. 

My  ancient  forebears  made  wry  faces  at 
each  other  and  hopped  down  from  my  should- 
ers. 


I  LISTEN  TO  MY  FOREBEARS  247 

"He's  a  fool !"  announced  the  cave  man. 

"I'll  say  he  is,"  answered  the  pirate. 

"I'm  not  going  to  stay  here  a  minute 
longer.  Will  you  please  get  out  of  my  way?" 
Mary  said  coldly. 

"No,  I  won't!"  I  yelled.  "I've  had  about 
enough  of  this,  Mary.  You  think  you  can 
dangle  me  on  the  end  of  a  string,  like  a 
damned  jumping- jack,  until  you  see  fit  to  let 
me  have  a  little  rest." 

My  guiding  ancestors  hopped  back  on  my 
shoulders. 

"That's  the  stuff  to  give  'em  I"  yelled 
Hunkers. 

"Treat  *em  rough !"  shouted  Captain  Kidd. 

"You  know  I  was  right  when  I  objected  to 
your  going  with  Frank  Woods.  It  wasn't  a 
friendly  thing  to  do,  after  the  way  he  messed 
up  things  in  my  family." 

"Well,  if  you  hadn't  been  so  dictatorial — " 

"Why  shouldn't  I  be  dictatorial?"  I  shout- 
ed, while  my  ancestors  held  their  sides  with 
laughter,  "and  this  being  my  house  I'm  going 
to  talk  as  loud  as  I  please.    If  the  girl  I  love, 


248  32    CALIBER 

as  no  man  ever  loved  a  girl  before,  tries  to  go 
out  with  a  man  I  think  is  wholly  unworthy  of 
her,  why  shouldn't  I  object  ?  I'll  do  it  again. 
I  want  you  and  I'm  to  have  you,  if  I've  got  to 
fight  for  you.  Even  if  I  have  to  fight  you 
for  you." 

Suddenly  Mary  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands.    Her  shoulders  shook. 

"Don't  cry,  Mary!    I  know  I've — " 

"I'm  not  crying,  I — I'm  laughing,"  she 
gurgled,  dropping  into  a  chair.  "Bupps,  you 
do  look  so  funny  when  you  get  excited." 

I  went  over  to  her  and  made  her  make 
room  for  me  on  her  chair,  and  then  I  put  my 
arms  around  her. 

"Mary,  lover-darling,  why  did  you  go  out 
with  Frank  Woods  that  day?" 

"Why,  Bupps,  I  was  hunting  the  same 
proof  that  you  were.  I  felt  all  along  that 
Frank  was  guilty." 

"I'm  a  brute!" 

*Tou're  a  foolish  boy,"  she  said,  twisting 
one  of  my  few  locks  of  hair. 

She  snuggled  closer. 


I  LISTEN  TO  MY  FOREBEARS  24d 

"Dearest  of  dearests,  when  are  you  going 
to  stop  teasing  me  ?"  I  asked. 

"Never,  Buppkins!"  she  replied.  "I  just 
discovered  that  it  brings  out  your  strong 
points." 

"Do  you  remember  what  you  said  when  I 
tried  to  ask  you  to  marry  me  ?"  I  whispered. 
She  shook  her  head. 

"You  told  me  to  wait  until  Helen  was 
well." 

"You  know,  Bupps — ^the  first  thing  I  said 
to  Helen  this — this  afternoon  was — " 

"What?" 

"  *How — ^how  well  you're  looking.* " 

With  her  face  so  close  to  mine  and  those 
lovely  lips  smiling  at  me  so  invitingly,  there 
was  only  one  thing  to  do,  so  I  did  it. 

"The  kid's  got  the  stuff  in  him  after  all," 
said  Hunkers. 

"I'll  say  he  has,"  agreed  Captain  Kidd. 

The  End 


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